Titanium
by Alexithymea
Summary: Star Trek Reboot AU. Jim never made it to the bar to meet Pike. Instead, he ran away from home to become a computer tech at Starfleet, trying to save money to put himself through classes. Commander Spock meets him one day after he is attacked by three Starfleet cadets, and that changes his entire plan for his life.
1. Probationary Period

There were two things in life worse than being invisible. But for one James Tiberius Kirk, neither of those things were going to come to pass anytime soon. One was death.

The other was heartbreak.

Since Jim didn't have a significant other and was in the least dangerous profession on the planet, neither of those were his problem. But now, as he sat in front of the broken terminal he was working on, the two people making out in the corner seemed not to see him in the slightest. Or they didn't think he would know what they were doing. Vulcan kissing was so different from human kissing that he was pretty certain that even the majority of those who worked with Vulcans on a regular basis didn't know.

Only one of them was a Vulcan, though. The other was a light skinned, beautiful human woman. Tey were both in the red outfit worn by the cadets. Jim may not be a cadet, but he knew enough about the academy to know that this wouldn't be allowed, especially not in public like this. But he was invisible, the computer repair man who was so ubiquitous on campus and so ignored that everyone knew who he was but no one knew his name, the sound of his voice, or who his parents were.

And that suited Jim just fine.

Except during times like this. All Jim wanted to do was yell at the couple to get a room and leave him to complete repairs on the consoles. He still had three left to look at in this room alone. Instead, Jim would retreat, his fear of what Vulcan strength causing him to shut the open console and gather his things as silently as possible, retreating out the opposite door from where he should have exited and into the far side of the building. It would take an extra five minutes of walking to get back to the dorms he was stationed in, but it was worth not having to cross into the couple's direct line of sight and notice.

As he walked, Jim watched his feet, angry at himself for not speaking up and finishing his work right then. He would have to come back to that same room later, work on that same console, and try to drive the sight of a human and Vulcan making out in a corner from his mind's eye. Other than that, it would be a mostly normal Friday night for him.

Trying to straighten his gray maintenance uniform as he walked, Jim looked up and to the stairwell leading downstairs. At least today he hadn't been accosted by any of the security cadets, or given a hard time by the command cadets, or had to walk through the cafeteria to have random bits of food flung at him. Because he was without a higher degree, did not graduate from Starfleet Academy, and was not a visiting dignitary, it was seen as permissible to treat him as dirt. Or worse.

Jim pushed the door leading out into the San Francisco sunlight open and stepped out, shielding his sensitive eyes from the glare. Spending his entire day indoors did nothing for his eyesight on days like this. Even his days spent outside while he was in Iowa didn't help. Nothing really had prepared him for his life here.

Growing up as a genius freak, Jim had quickly been shunned as a child. His mother wanted nothing to do with him, leaving him with his step father, who was the poster boy for why alcoholics should not live with children. After years of this life, of his running away and being dragged back, Jim finally made it out, made it to the big city, which in Iowa was about one one hundredth the size of San Fran, and took on an apprenticeship to help build the vessels for Starfleet.

His promise in computer programming had led his direct supervisor to put in for Jim to be employed at the academy for more than four times what he was making in Iowa. The way Jim saw it was that if he could work here for a time, save his money, he might one day be able to afford tuition and take classes while he was here, and might be able to join his mother in space.

But that day was not today. Today he was an invisible computer tech without a place of his own. No name, no friends, no future. The only thing he had was his intelligence, his persistence, and his never say die attitude. Unlike every other cadet on the campus, Jim studied the books he found lying around. He knew about Vulcans, Romulans, Klingons, Andorians, and number of other races. He knew everything there was to know about starship designations, designs, and warp drives. Ranks, insignia, departments, even who commanded what were already in Jim Kirk's mind.

All he needed now was the credits to validate his knowledge. But no one took the corn bred, pathologically shy, abused maintenance man seriously. Most saw him as a good way to earn a bit of street cred among their peers.

So lost in his thoughts was Jim that he barely realized he was walking through an alley on his way home that was far from empty. At the far end, unseen when he entered the alleyway, were three burly cadets. They were watching Jim as he walked, and one elbowed another, gesturing with his head at Jim. This would get painful fast, Jim thought, as he contemplated turning and heading back in the opposite direction. But unfortunately for him, he was already halfway through, and the men were headed over already. There was no where to run to, not now, and he did not want to end up in the hospital again. By the look in the cadets' eyes, however, that was the probably outcome.

At least they started slow before getting to the heavy hitting. Pushing him around, into the wall. Jim would have fought back, and might have won, but part of his probationary period meant that he could not be caught in these sorts of incidents. As one of the bigger males stood over him, holding his collar and whispering something, Jim just shut himself off from physical sensation, choosing instead to go over the computer system in his mind until this was over.

So he didn't notice at first when the punching stopped, didn't hear the sound of bodies being thrown about and hitting solid, brick walls, didn't feel the gentleness of the hands now lifting him as if he didn't weigh a thing. It wasn't until the sunlight hit his face again that Jim opened his eyes, which were already swelling, and looked up at the oddly moving sky above him. Someone was carrying him, someone who could hold him with ease, someone who was extremely warm and extremely _Vulcan_.

Jim's eyes went to the face of the man carrying him towards the medical buildings. He was Vulcan, his hair cut severe, his face stoic, his eyes...A chocolate brown Jim found intriguing. The Vulcan spared him a single glance before looking ahead again, a slight twitch to his lips.

"I am taking you to the infirmary," he stated, his voice flat. "You have sustained eight broken bones, numerous bruises and lacerations, and may have a concussion."

Trying to thank him, Jim heard nothing more than an undignified sort of wheezing sound leave his throat. How could he have forgotten the choke hold? Not being able to speak, he simply relaxed there and let the Vulcan carry him. There were no more words until the doors to the main hospital were opened and Jim was placed into the nearest wheelchair.

One of the student doctors who worked with Jim when he came in was standing with a chart in his hands talking to a blond nurse. The doctor, Jim affectionately called him Bones after the first conversation they ever had but who's real name was Leonard McCoy, felt his attention drawn to the door, blinked once and hurried over, tossing the chart at the poor nurse who had no choice but to follow.

"Jesus, Jim! What the hell happened this time?"

The Vulcan straightened, pulling the front of his black tunic down before looking at Bones. "I found him in an alleyway with three cadets-"

He never did get to finish what he was saying before Jim blacked out. Unconsciousness was a far kinder way to deal with the pain than any hypo Bones would stab him with.

-oOo-

The steady beeping of a heart monitor and the sound of low, whispering voices nearby drug Jim from his blissful sleep. He was soon aware of the aches over his body, and the surprising amount of numbness he legs. As he lay there, refusing to move quite yet, the voices nearby became a bit clearer.

"Commander, as long as you are here, can I ask something?"

"You may ask as many questions as you like and I may or may not choose to answer, doctor."

Jim heard a sigh and the scratching of a chair against the linoleum tiled floor. "I guess my only real question is why _are_ you here?"

An intake of breath, slow exhalation, then the commander, Jim recognized the voice as that of the Vulcan who had carried him here, spoke. "I wanted to be certain that the young human was not permanently injured by the cadets so when I file the necessary papers I will know what to fill out as the state of the complainant."

"Jim won't file no case, you know," Bones said. Jim could see in his mind's eye the southern doctor lounging over the back of the hospital chair as he had done every time he sat vigil for Jim. "He's been in here eight times since I got here, and never once filed charges. Don't think that's going to change."

Silence took over the small room, save for the heart monitor that beeped steadily. Jim opened his eyes slowly, trying not to draw attention to himself, so he could look over at the two men sitting near his bed. The commander was sitting straight, his posture stiff and uncomfortable looking next to Bones, who had one arm flung carelessly over the back of his seat, seemingly trying to be the polar opposite of the Vulcan who he was eying with definite distaste.

"He may not, but I will be certain that the proper disciplinary actions are taken-"

"Why do you even care? It's not like he's one of your cadets!" Now Bones sat upright, leaning towards the Vulcan with his eyes narrowed. "No one else on this campus gives two shits about the maintenance department until something doesn't get done."

"That is...incorrect." He let his gaze travel to the now awake Jim, his eyes widening slightly. "Mr. Kirk, I am glad you have awoken finally."

Bones jumped from his chair quickly enough to knock it over and rushed around Jim's bed, coming up to the other side to quickly check Jim's vitals. When the patient tried to bat the doctor's hands away, Bones became a bit irritated.

"No, Jim. You've been out for two days. Don't make me sedate you."

Only when Jim's hands fell back to the bed did the Vulcan move slowly to stand next to the bed as well. Leonard looked up at the Vulcan and gave a half sigh.

"Jim, this is Commander Spock. Spock, this is James Kirk." Once those proper introductions were made, Bones went back to his examination, picking up a tricorder from the table and scanning Jim's body. "Seems like everything is healing properly. Had to do some basic regeneration of some of your bones. You might feel some numbness in your legs for a few more hours until the spinal swelling goes down, but then you'll be fine to go out and get yourself near killed again."

"Sorry, Bones," Jim said with a frown, his voice scratchy and barely audible. After a few coughs, he tried again. "Didn't mean to."

"I know you won't, but Spock did point out that charges need to be filed this time," Bones commented, almost trying for casual. "There was a witness this time and I have that suspicion that had the commander not intervened you would have been past resuscitation."

Jim shook his head, looking away. "No. Not needed. I-"

"Screw your probationary period, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker! I can't keep putting you back together because you decide that this job is more important than your well being!"

Spock's eyes went sharply to Bones at this point. "Probationary period?"

"He can't be arrested or charged with any crimes against Starfleet personal," Bones explained exasperatedly. He put the tricorder down and picked up a hypo, jabbing it into Jim's neck, causing the other man to recoil and wince.

"Sonofa-"

"Until he is properly enrolled," the doctor continued as if he hadn't just caused his patient to curse. "Because he won't take the tests to get a scholarship, Mr. Kirk-" The name was said with a great deal of sarcasm. "-is insisting on saving up enough money himself. And his post is one of those that requires tenure to be properly protected against being black listed." With a roll of his eyes, Bones ran the tricorder over Jim again. "He calls it his probationary period. I call it sheer idiocy."

"It's self preservation." Jim looked over at Spock. "Thank you for what you've done, commander, but I will not be filing charges and have no further need of assistance."

"Illogical," Spock said quickly. "I discovered you have no form of medical coverage through Starfleet and when I questioned Doctor McCoy about it, he said you always paid with your own funds. If you are truly saving to enroll in Starfleet, allow me to cover the expenses of your medical stay since you are declining your right to press charges against your assailants."

Only a second passed before Jim shook his head. "No. I won't be indebted to anyone." The darkness in his voice was only overcome by the sheer willpower it took to keep his eyes open. Whatever Bones had shot him with was starting to kick in and hard. He leaned back against the pillow and felt his head lolling to the side. "Now...can I sleep again?"

With that he was out.

-oOo-

When Jim woke for the second time, he was glad to find himself alone and his clothes, cleaned and folded, at the foot of his bed. That was McCoy's not so subtle way of letting him know he was free to leave. Changing out of the medical gown, Jim slid from the room and moved to the front desk where the receptionist sat.

"Hi. James Kirk. I'm just checking out and wanted to pay my bill." Or as much as he could. Jim still had his last visit to finish payments on.

"Mr. Kirk," the receptionist said absently, typing his name on her PADD. "I will discharge you, and you are already paid up to date." She gave him a dazzling smile and nodded. "Have a nice day and we hope _not_ to see you back here anytime soon."

Jim stood there for a moment before he could speak again. "Wait, I'm paid up to date? As in...completely paid?"

She hit something on her PADD before nodding. "Yes. You are free to go."

A scowl hit Jim's face. He would find that nosy, irritating, _overly helpful_ Vulcan and pay him back. He would have to otherwise this could come back and bite him in the ass in the most unpleasant way.


	2. Forced Repayment

**A/N: **A general warning, mention of noncon, nothing too specific, though.

It took the better part of the next day to locate Commander Spock's residence. Jim finally hacked into the central Starfleet database using one of the terminals he was repairing. Since searching for holes in the security was also his job, he immediately repaired the breach, but not without taking note that Spock kept a house off campus, only an hour's walk away. Once he rebooted the terminal and signed off for the day, Jim hurried back to his own basement dormitory and threw his bag onto the small bed, gathering a pair of civilian jeans and an overlarge sweater to change into before making his way into the shower. It was getting late, but with any hope he would make it back before it got too dark.

Dressed as he was, Jim didn't catch too many eyes as he walked off campus and onto the city streets. One hand was kept in his pocket, fiddling with the credit chip he had shoved there before leaving his apartment. It was most of his savings, and would take him half a year to replenish, but it gave him comfort knowing that he did not need to be indebted to this Vulcan.

The city itself held no real interest for Jim. Between the cars being much more advanced than the one he drove off that cliff so many years ago, the buildings being a mixture of pre-space exploration and post-first contact, and the people being of so many different species, he often felt lost if he paid too much attention to it all. His mind was built for different specializations, the simple task of _knowing_. But knowing and implementing were two totally different things in his book.

Coming to the edge of the campus sprawling, the bars and clubs put there because of the academy, Jim found himself on a street with several gated houses. The buildings were larger than an entire dormitory building, and Jim felt his nervousness growing as his stomach twisted slightly. There would be no way he would be welcomed into such a house in his current attire. Even his dress clothes would be under dressed here.

Feeling a hopeless sort of knot in his gut, Jim decided to just find the house and try to contact Spock. Since it was Saturday and no classes were held on weekends, he figured that someone should be home. When the address he was looking for came up, Jim felt his lunch try to force its way from him in a most painful manner, which he swallowed against.

The house behind the ivy covered gates was monstrous. Every resident of his home town could fit in there with room to spare. A large front door sat under four more stories of windows, each at least fifty windows across with six feet in between each window. The front drive encircled a fountain that sprayed water a good twenty feet into the air, and there were perfectly trimmed hedges lining the very front of the house.

The human failed to realize how long he stood there staring up at the house before a voice came from the intercom next to the gate. A camera turned to point directly at him as the bored sounding male droned a message to him.

"Visitors to the Vulcan Embassy are required to set an appointment with one of the ambassadors. Hours you can call are Monday through Friday, eight AM to five PM. Have a nice evening."

Jim hurried over to the intercom and pressed the talk button. "Please, I am here to see Commander Spock, is he in?"

"Commander Spock is out. May I take tell have your name so I can inform him you called?"

"Um...no. I'm sure I'll see him around."

Defeat welled up inside Jim. His hand, still around the credit chip, tightened and he felt the edges of the chip dig into his palm. One disaster after another had occurred this weekend, and he was more than prepared to walk back to his tiny dorm and wallow away the night going over his schedule for tomorrow. It was stupid of him to assume that the Vulcan would be home. He probably had a number of friends, a girlfriend, all of that. And Jim had his computers. That's where he was happy.

So the long walk back was started, and his shoes dragged over the cement sidewalk. Although disappointed, Jim was still determined to settle this debt before Spock decided to force repayment in some other way. Although it had been a long time, three years in fact, since the last person had forced repayment, and the psychological scars were still there in his reticence to be noticed by people.

It happened one night when Jim was away from home, working on one of the 'fleet ships. Programming always kept him late into the night, and he figured no one else was there. But he didn't know that one Gary Mitchell was hanging about. A week before that, Gary had helped Jim pay his rent when some unwelcome (but not completely unexpected) medical bills had drained Jim's account. Jim had promised repayment on payday. The only problem was he didn't know Gary's way of repayment.

The bigger man had pinned him against the hull of the new ship before Jim even realized he was there. A hand had ripped open his work coverall and Gary's sweaty hand covered his mouth.

"You want to repay me?" the man had hissed into his ear even as he pressed his already hard length against Jim's ass. "You can keep your money, and just let me use your body."

With a shaky breath, Jim ripped his mind away from that particular memory. It may have been years ago, but it still tore at him. And that was the beginning of Jim's distrust of the court systems, his need to not be the center of attention, his pathetic excuses to not press charges. The judges had believed Gary when he said that Jim had been willing.

Once more, Jim forced himself to focus on the present. With everything happening now, he needed to use his genius mind to work out a way to save enough money to pay for his first semester. After that, he wasn't sure what he would do. There were so many unanswered questions. If he managed to prove himself capable enough in his classes to earn a scholarship, that would save him so much trouble. But then there was the unwavering doubt that crushed him back down. What if he failed?

His mind was so distracted that Jim walked right into the busy street and was promptly surrounded by partying cadets and townies who had taken over the sidewalks as they made their way from one club or bar to another. Jim tried to press himself away from the crowds, but some of the women and not a few of the men noticed the golden haired young man as he tried to push his way through, no longer invisible in the middle of the drunken revelry that was the weekend. Jim noticed the overwhelming amount of green that was present and the shamrocks before it hit him that today was the seventeenth of March.

Several hands reached out to pinch him before Jim managed to dodge them. One stealthy cadet, however, an attractive female, laid both hands on his rear, pinching.

"You should have worn a little green," she purred into his ear as Jim went into full panic mode. The girl seemed not to notice as she slinked away through the crowd, but Jim practically melded with the brick wall, feeling sick. His arms started shivering despite the warm sweater wrapped around him.

This was the reason he stayed sequestered in his room. Even yesterday, being carried by that Vulcan, the only reason he didn't fight was because he couldn't. Now, his only goal was to flee as far and as fast as he could. But running through this group was near impossible.

Instead, Jim found himself forced along with the crowd, steadily working his way out to the street proper. He would rather be ran over by a hover car than be pinched, prodded, and groped by everyone on the sidewalks. Holding his arms tight to his chest, he pushed through people until he was forcibly expelled, right into the path of an oncoming car.

Strong, extremely warm hands grabbed his biceps and pulled him back, out of the way as the driver swerved around him. Jim found himself held against a hard chest, momentarily frozen with fear. His arms still tight against himself, Jim forced a deep breath and expelled it quickly, closing his eyes against the near death experience before turning to look at who had grabbed him and was _still_ holding him.

Sable eyes regarded him from a face lacking all signs of emotion other than the slight quirk of an eyebrow. Jim swallowed against the lump of nausea in his throat and quickly dug into his pocket, pulling out the credit chip to press into Spock's hand.

"I-I...just wanted...There."

He turned to flee down the mostly empty street, but Spock's other hand had a firm grip on his arm, refusing to let go. Jim glanced back and felt his own panic start to ignite. The Vulcan's eyes widened slightly and he quickly let go of the human, who promptly pushed his way through the crowd and back to the campus proper.

Jim barely registered the trip back to his tiny room. Everything traveled in an indistinct blur until he fell down face first on his bed, his breathing erratic. Spock would wonder why he left in such a hurry, but Jim knew better than anyone why he couldn't be touched and not have some sort of reaction. Even being pummeled was better than being held in such a false manner.

Despite his best efforts to will his mind to calm down, restless adrenaline fueled energy coursed through Jim and he started pacing his small room. It was exactly three strides wide by seven strides long, barely large enough to pace, but big enough to give him the sense of movement. He needed to do something constructive, and Jim decided in a moment. Grabbing his ID card and his tool case, he left his dorm and headed towards one of the test buildings, intent upon fixing the simulator that had been damaged during a rather intense session. As he heard it, the student had thrown his boot at one of the consoles after he failed his objective.

Swiping his card, he let himself into the building, walking down the dark halls, his street shoes not making a sound on the hard floor. Jim walked slowly as several emotions warred for his immediate attention. One, the most obvious, was fear. He was afraid of this Vulcan he now had to repay again for saving his life.

Then there was grief. He had seen the confusion and hurt in the brown eyes when Spock had released him to flee. He had no idea why the Vulcan seemed so upset about Jim's need to depart, but he had been, and Jim was nothing if not a bit empathic as far as others went. Even if people tended to overlook him, he could still read them near perfectly.

Finally, Jim saw the small grain of something he had hoped wasn't actually there. A little bit of attraction. The Vulcan was attractive, even by human standards. But Jim was not one to harbor hopeless crushes and he brushed that useless emotion aside. It wouldn't help in now, and had no use in the future, so he would willingly ignore it.

Opening the door to the simulator, Jim moved over to the broken console and saw the obvious boot print. Sitting down on the floor and scooting underneath so he could get at the underside and remove the panel, Jim's powerdrill worked its way across the panel. Each screw fell into his waiting hands, and Jim was deaf to the world, his only focus on the sound of the drill.

Turning it off, he slid from under the console to see a shadow sitting in the chair in the center of the room, hands steepled against his chin, as he watched Jim. The human felt the blood rush from his face and he held the drill defensively in front of him. The Vulcan put him on edge to start with, but his intense eyes made Jim feel more vulnerable than Gary Mitchell ever had.

"I was wondering what I could have done to cause you such distress," Spock said as he leaned forward slightly. Jim pushed himself back against the console before standing, feeling a bit stronger while on his feet.

"Y-you followed me?" Jim asked with a slight squeak, a little undignified and unmanly, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to be out of this room. Curse his inability to teleport at will.

Spock let out a breath and tilted his head. "Not exactly. I was hear to pick something up and heard your drill. Being curious as to who was here so late, when I saw your clothing, it seemed reasonable to stay and inquire as to your general well being and why you were so offended by my person when I have done nothing to warrant such behavior."

"I-I-I..." Jim found himself unable to speak and kept his eyes focused on Spock's feet. His chest started hurting from the strength of his heart pounding against his ribs, his stomach twisted into a pretzel, and he felt his mouth go dry. Vulcans were not a violent race, preferring logic and reason. But Jim didn't trust anyone and he was not about to start with someone who could possibly manhandle him easily to the floor. Someone who could kill him without even really trying.

He heard more than saw Spock stand, his hands smoothing down his black uniform shirt. Jim kept his eyes averted from his face, but that didn't seem to deter the Vulcan as he took two steps forward and placed himself directly in front of Jim.

"I do not mean to intrude where I am not wanted, but I did think you would like this back." A hand brushed against his jeans, and Jim recoiled violently, pressing against the console behind him, eyes closed, the drill slipping from his nerveless grasp.

Spock let out a sigh. "Fascinating," he breathed before turning to the door and leaving Jim there, his breathing harsh.

It took another hour before Jim could find his way back to his room. One hot shower later he was wrapped in every blanket he owned, intent upon shutting out the world. But his own mind tended to intrude on nights like this, and when Sunday morning rolled around, Jim was woefully sleep deprived and wishing he could take the day off. But repairs needed to be made, no matter how hard a weekend Jim was having.


	3. Case Files

It was Monday. Classes had resumed after a day of the cadets being hungover and heavily regretting celebrating quite so hard. Especially with end of the year exams coming up. The simulators were being pushed to their limits, and it was barely passed 1400 when Jim received an urgent message that simulator six had crashed in the middle of the Kobayashi Maru exam. Grabbing his tools, he hurried to the simulator in question, pushing the door open only to be assailed by acrid smoke and a noxious smell that sent him skittering out of the room, gagging and coughing. He quickly pulled on his air mask and went back in, trying to find the source of the gasses quickly filling the room.

Jim smacked the buttons for the air pumps, which kicked on full, sucking some of the smoke out. Scanning the room, he saw the panel over near where the pilot would sit for this simulation. Something was crammed into it, and Jim sighed, making his way to the console and sitting in the pilot's seat so he could pry the top panel free and check in the throttle.

An hour's worth of work and cleaning took up the remainder of Jim's work day as he scraped what remained of a half eaten apple from the simulator throttle, dropping the fried bits in a bucket he would empty later. Once that was done, some rewiring, which took another half an hour, and Jim sat back, taking his mask off. The room smelled horrible still, but the smoke was cleared and his job was done.

With the universal remote he carried at all times, Jim restarted the simulation where the students had left off. The screen flickered back on, and he sat back, staring up at the Klingon vessels that were frozen as the simulation had not fully resumed. With a shake of his head, Jim saw the losing situation these cadets had trapped themselves in. Anyone who had read and remembered anything of the dissertation of Captain Pike and the paper on Klingon ships by Admiral Archer would be able to tell them that this was a hopeless situation.

His mind drifted back to the present as his PADD dinged with an incoming message. He pulled it from his tool bag and placed it on his lap, reading the message.

_**Admin:** Mr. Kirk, a malfunction has been logged in office 321 in building C. Please respond as soon as possible._

Jim let out a sigh and shoved the PADD away again. Of course, more work even though technically he was supposed to be done for the day. Jim had been looking forward to a night of doing nothing but pondering a way to continue to avoid a certain Vulcan who seemed to be stalking him. Now he would be stuck fixing some faculty computer because someone wrecked it. He just silently prayed as he left the simulator that this wasn't another one of those 'I downloaded the wrong thing' problems. Because if Jim had to repair one more porn addicts computer, he was going to put a fist through a screen.

Building C was right next door, and held the science labs as well as the greenhouses. That narrowed it down to a member of the science department, at least. Jim was vaguely curious, but not enough to search out the person if they were not in their office. Hiking up the two flights of stairs to the third floor, he received a few strange looks before Jim remembered that he probably smelled like the simulator room. Which meant he would have to incinerate these clothes and scrub himself down once he got home. And wasn't that just thrilling?

Reaching the office, Jim glanced at the nameplate and stopped just short of pressing the entry chime. Of course, it had to be the office of one S'chn T'gai Spock, Commander, Science, Linguistics, and Technology. Jim was forced to steel himself before he reached for the chime and pushed.

The door slid open and Jim stepped in, seeing Spock sitting at his desk, a PADD in hand, his desk terminal shut down. The Vulcan looked up and let one eyebrow raise in what Jim could only guess was a questioning manner. With a quick gesture at his tool bag, Jim returned the gaze, finding that he had a hard time really speaking to this man now. It was all nerves, especially since Saturday.

When he had done laundry yesterday, he found the credit chip that Spock had slid back into his pants pocket. Jim became a mixture of distraught and angry at the discovery, but put off seeking Spock again. He told himself that it was to give Spock time to accept that Jim wanted to pay him back at all.

In truth, Jim just needed to accept that he was a little scared of Spock.

"I surmise that you are here to repair the terminal?" Spock asked quietly, standing as he did. The Vulcan moved around the desk and took a seat on one of the side chairs, waving for Jim to proceed to the desk chair so he could access the computer.

"Yes." Jim was insanely proud that his voice didn't shake, but that was the only word he could force out. Going around the opposite side of the desk from Spock, his hands nervously fiddling with the strap of his bag as he turned the terminal on, waiting for it to finish booting up. Unconsciously he wanted to go back to being invisible. Go back to being comfortable and overlooked. At least then, he wouldn't have to look up and see those dark eyes so focused on him.

"Your nervousness around me is illogical as I have yet to make any threatening moves towards you," Spock stated. Jim glanced over and felt his hands twitch as his mind focused on the single word _'yet'_.

"Schrodinger's cat," Jim said absently as he started typing commands into the terminal, opening up the corrupted files. Spock's eyes narrowed in confusion and Jim continued talking, comfortable at least in explaining something of a scientific nature. "A few centuries ago, an Austrian physicist used an everyday explanation to illustrate the Copenhagan interpretation of quantum mechanics. Put a cat in a box with a vial of poison set to break at a random time. Without opening that box, the cat can then be thought of as both alive and dead."

Spock's eyebrows shot up and Jim could only deduce that he had come to the correct conclusion of why he was explaining an early twentieth century human paradoxical thought experiment.

"So there are two different outcomes as you see it," Spock said quietly. "One where I am a threat, and one where I am not. And until I can prove otherwise, you believe it is both."

With a few final keystrokes, Jim stood and gathered his things again. "That should do it. I have strengthened your current firewalls and prevented any further damage as well as reversed what already happened." He threw his bag over his shoulder, not commenting on Spock's supposition. "Have a nice day, commander."

Jim gave a quick salute before he practically fled down the hall and towards the stairs, intent upon locking himself away in his room for the rest of the day.

-oOo-

Spock wasn't stupid. As a matter of fact, he was far from it. Having surpassed any expectations of him from his own people, and then far outstripping any other cadet in the history of Starfleet, he was one of the most intelligent beings alive. And that wasn't just bragging, that was simple, unequivocal fact. Spock was a genius in most everything.

But understanding human motivations still perplexed him to no end. Yes, he was half human, and his mother was human, but none of that helped him piece together the puzzle that Chris Pike had placed before him.

He had contacted Pike and been given this assignment exactly nine days, six hours, and eighteen minutes ago, yet Spock's brain could not figure out what to do about James Kirk. Even two days ago, when Kirk had attempted to repay him with nearly every credit he possessed, and Spock had refused, this piece to the puzzle simply made it that much harder.

Pike wanted Kirk in Starfleet. After he sent a quick explanation to his direct superior explaining why he would be absent from their weekly chess game, Pike had sent him back a copy of his dissertation, which Spock had already read, and a file on one George Kirk. That this painfully awkward, reticent, and heavily damaged young man could be the son of one of the most famous and decorated members of Starfleet could not be reconciled in Spock's mind. James Kirk should have been enrolled in Starfleet already, and the further Spock dug, the deeper this story actually went.

His initial searches had given him the information that as a teenager, Kirk was a trouble maker, an unapologetic repeat offender, and an all around general public nuisance. The James Kirk Spock knew was as far from that as one could possibly be. Now, of course, after watching the human flee his office after giving him a confusing explanation as to why he was terrified gave Spock pause.

The one question that seemed not to have an answer at his disposal was _why_ was Kirk so scared?

So Spock decided to use all his skills to discover the answer to that single question. He canceled two student sessions and sat behind his terminal, pulling up the public record of James Tiberius Kirk. There were a number of sealed files, numerous criminal and disciplinary records. But those all stopped suddenly approximately three years ago. It was as if Kirk went from a trouble maker to a model citizen overnight. Then, not six months later, came the request for a transfer.

Just before his records went quiet was a single sealed file. Spock sat back in his chair. Hacking into a sealed file could get him into a great deal of trouble. But Pike had told him to use whatever means he had to convince the human to join Starfleet. And after seeing the pure terror in that human's eyes, Spock felt the urge to protect him, even from himself. It was an illogical feeling, one he attributed to his human failings, but also one he could not ignore.

It took only five minutes to get that file open, and Spock felt anger when he read it. That then softened into pity for the young human that kept fleeing from him. Spock understood everything all too well.

The file was sealed to protect the identity of another human, now a Starfleet cadet himself, stationed at the space dock for most of his time with Starfleet to continue his work on the integrated computer systems of the new fleet. Spock read the file with great care to not miss any of the details.

_**Complainant:** James Tiberius Kirk_

_**Defendant:** Gary Dean Mitchell_

_**Charges:** On the night of February 20th, 2255, Kirk alleges that Mitchell sexually assaulted him on Starfleet property. The allegations include one count of sexual misconduct, one count of sexual battery, and one count of rape._

_**Counter-Charges:** Mitchell holds that on the night in question, Kirk offered himself in place of repayment of a debt. Mitchell claims that Kirk was a willing participant. The allegations include one count of prostitution, and one count of false testimony._

_**Judgment:** As neither Mitchell nor Kirk have appropriate proof, both cases are dismissed pending sexual harassment classes to be attended by both._

There was more to it, the exact testimonies of both Kirk and Mitchell, and Spock felt himself grow cold at the thought that these charges were dismissed and then hidden. It explained so much about James Kirk that previously did not coincide with with the man Pike had expected. Spock wanted to strangle the judge and kill Mitchell.

But more than that he wanted to go reassure and comfort Kirk.

That came out of nowhere and hit Spock hard. Never before had he felt such an overwhelmingly illogical and unexplainable emotion. In addition to that, there was a ninety nine point six eight percent that Kirk would not answer his door should Spock randomly show up without prior planning.

So instead, Spock started composing a letter to Christopher Pike, explaining in detail his interactions with James Kirk since March 9th. He included in an after word his own beliefs in the reasoning behind Kirk's behavior. As he sat in his office awaiting a reply, Spock started his own investigation into the records of Gary Mitchell. If he couldn't help Kirk, he would at least see that the person responsible for his broken state was brought to justice.

Barely past Mitchell's academic records, Pike's response interrupted him mid sentence.

_Spock,_

_I was not aware of the charges against Mitchell or that Kirk filed such charges. I will look into it as soon as possible._

_In the meantime, continue your current efforts. I trust that you can be discreet about your final goals, and mine as well. The world needs more men like George Kirk, and if his past is any indication, I believe James can be that man._

_Contact me if you learn anything else._

_Pike_

With a deep breath and a quick affirmative, Spock returned to his digging, determined to find a solution to the puzzle that was James Kirk.

-oOo-

Just outside the neutral zone, a ship sat in waiting. The Romulans aboard watched and waited for a signal from their captain to retrieve him from the Klingon prison planet. With their weapons repaired and the ship once again fully operational, there was no fear that the Klingons would do any damage to them.

Rura Penthe was not Ayel's main concern. It was instead the strange fluctuations he was getting from the site of their entrance into this time stream. First, they picked up Nero. Then they would wait for the emergence of their old enemy.

The end of the Vulcans and the failure that was Starfleet was near.

**A/N:** Why yes, I am teaching you all physics while you read fanfictions. And a note on continuity, my apologies for not explaining earlier, but the calender is Kirk was injured on March 9th, woke up on March 11th, went and finally searched for Spock on March 17th, and the current date is March 19th. Just so that's all clear.


	4. Simple Facts

Three things were absolutely clear to Jim as he lay on his bed contemplating his ceiling.

_Fact one: His repayment of Commander Spock needed to happen as soon as humanly possible._

Spock now knew that Jim knew that there was the potential for danger involved in spending time with the Vulcan. How could there not be? Vulcans could snap a human's neck without any thought, and the wrong move could possibly send Jim down a path he never wanted to explore.

And he owed Spock for not only paying his medical bills but for saving his life. Both those debts were near impossible to repay without a great deal of trouble from Jim. The credits he could handle, even if it set him back another year.

The life saving...might have been a bit harder.

_Fact two: Spock knew more than he was letting on._

The Vulcan wasn't dumb. Or blind. Hell, no Vulcan was dumb. Granted, not all of them were experts in every field of study, but they all excelled in their chosen paths. At least most of them did. And none more so than the one Jim had in front of him as an example of Vulcan discipline mixed with human ingenuity.

Spock had to know something about Jim. There were things that Jim would not be worried about him knowing, like his rap sheet. But if Spock uncovered the reason for his transfer, if Spock discovered that which Jim now hid from everyone, the very thing that had changed his outlook so completely, Jim wouldn't put it past him to use that information.

_Fact three: Jim was starting to harbor a small crush on the Vulcan._

And that explanation was easy. As far as Jim Kirk's actual feelings went, he wasn't so much in control of them as they controlled themselves.

Sitting up from his bed, Jim glared at the wall opposite of him. It was Monday night, and most of the cadets were in study groups, or preparing for their exams, or in some rare cases out on the town even on a week night. Jim was doing none of the above, and had no plans to do such. With a deep and restless sigh, he stood and pulled on his jacket, shoving his ID card into one of the pockets. A nighttime stroll wasn't out of the question, and the campus should be quiet this time of night.

The air outside the dorm was still cool enough to be comfortable to walk in. Jim saw his breath form small wisps as it rose into the air. The grass was already sparkling in the street lights, small droplets covering the greenery. The moon was hiding behind a cloud, but the stars were still visible. Jim found himself watching the constellations, wondering where his mother was among them for a moment, losing track of where he was headed.

It didn't take long for Jim to find himself in the center of campus, on the large field in between the medical buildings and the science buildings. There were only a few trees to obscure his view as he walked, and he made it to the center, where there was no light to interfere with his star gazing.

Laying backwards in the wet grass, heedless of the damp that was soaking through his pants, Jim put both hands behind his head and watched the stars twinkle far above him. Ever since he was little, he wanted to go up and see them up close, see the other planets, the other races. He wanted to see what shapes were formed in other galaxies, what new constellations he could find.

That had a new and added dimension now. He wanted to feel safe and be among people he could trust. The only person on this planet he still trusted was Bones, but he had his own problems, his own friends, and his own career. The older man couldn't be bothered to worry about the young computer tech who kept nearly getting himself killed.

Jim heard the footsteps before he saw who it was. When Spock sat next to him in the cold grass, Jim squashed his first instinct, which was to move away and flee again. But the Vulcan just sat there, his knees pulled up, a wet patch growing on his regulation trousers, staring at the same stars Jim was looking at.

"My planet is there," Spock supplied, pointing up at a quadrant that Jim already knew. "My mother and father are both there. Father is the ambassador to Earth, and mother is a human professor. She grew up on Earth, taught me as much as she could about the traditions of her home planet and the people." Jim could almost hear the emotion in what Spock was saying, despite the bland tone he was using. "Of all the species I have met while here, the one that still fascinates me the most is humans. Their beliefs run so deep, that even a great deal of persuasion cannot convince them otherwise. I find it most intriguing and perplexing."

Looking over at the Vulcan seated next to him, Jim could see his profile, the strong, straight lines of his face pale against the darkness of the sky behind him. "Humans tend to hold on with both hands to even the most...illogical ideas," Jim explained, using one of the Vulcan's prized words. The sable eyes traveled to Jim's face and the human resisted the urge to shift away. "Even as a Vulcan, I'm sure you've seen it first hand. Humans run into a wall and rather than try to find a way around it, run straight at it again. But then there are also those who look for the doors and windows to get through."

He wasn't sure what prompted him to share anything with this man, but Jim continued laying there, his gaze traveling between the stars above and Spock at his side. There was something more going on behind all of this and Jim wanted the answer.

"What sort of wall am I running into?" he asked quickly, before Spock could respond to his earlier statement. "So I know where to start looking for my window."

Spock looked back at him again, his eyebrows pulling together. "There is no wall, Mr. Kirk. No trap. I am not here to belittle or attack you. I find myself intrigued by you and your resilience. More than that, I am impressed by your knowledge of human and other cultures that I have gotten only a small glimpse of. Indeed, you are an exceptional example of humans."

Not for the first time, Jim found himself without words while in the Vulcan's presence. There was only one thing he could really say at this point.

"Um...can you just call me Jim? Mr. Kirk is so formal..."

Spock gave a single nod and sat back, staring at the stars. "I can remember that, Jim. I do have some things I would like to discuss with you, if you are amiable to a conversation."

After a moment's mental deliberation, Jim blinked up at Spock and gave a smile. He had nothing more to lose, knowing that most Vulcans were just as stubborn as humans. "I'm amiable to a conversation."

-oOo-

"This was stupid," Jim said as they sat in his small dorm room, Spock wrapped in the blankets that were until a moment ago on his bed. He searched his dressers until he came up with a pair of sweatpants. "Here, give me those, you go get out of those wet clothes."

The shivering Vulcan nodded and handed over the small mountain of blankets, taking the sweatpants and sweater Jim pulled out of his closet and tossed at him. There was a slight olive cast to his features as Jim watched him retreat into the bathroom to change.

How could he have forgotten that Vulcans could not stand the cold? Or that they ignored their own comfort when their minds were elsewhere. It amazed him that Spock had made it all the way back to the room before he gave in to the urge to shiver violently. Jim had fumbled with his key card for only half a second before he got his door open for Spock and turned the heat up.

Jim sat on his bed, arms full of cloth, and stared at the closed door separating him from the first person to ever be invited back to his room. They would have gone someplace else had Jim known anywhere else to go, and he did not want to take the long walk back to the Vulcan Embassy just to have Spock go into hypothermia halfway there. This was the closest he could find to a safe place, but now Spock knew where to find him and they were alone in the much too cramped quarters.

Their first real conversation replayed in his head as he waited. Spock asked what Jim wanted to specialize in and Jim told him. He wanted something in the command track, navigator or pilot. Something that would allow him to be there when things were discovered. Spock suggested that he take a few entrance exams and test out of any subjects he knew already, and Jim informed him that he was more than willing to do that, but did not feel confident enough to do so. From there, Spock offered to tutor him. It was then that Jim noticed the subtle shivering, the clenched teeth, the peaky look beginning on his features.

Common sense kicked Jim in the ass and he rushed Spock back to his room to warm up, feeling twenty kinds of foolish. So long as Spock didn't suffer any permanent damage from the exposure, Jim wouldn't feel too bad, but as it stood, he had unintentionally allowed his own fears and trust issues to color his view of the real world and for that, Spock suffered.

The door to the bathroom opened and Spock came out, looking a little better now that he wasn't damp through. The sweater was too big for his thin frame, and the pants a little too short, but that barely mattered. Jim stood and wrapped the blankets around him again, noting that the Vulcan's color was improving slightly.

"You can have the bed. It's the only comfortable place to sit in here." Jim gestured at the single person bed sitting shoved in the corner. He picked up his own change of clothes and backed into the bathroom as Spock sat stiffly on corner of the mattress.

The black tunic and pants were carefully folded and hanging over the empty towel rack to dry. Jim smiled to himself, stripping off his own clothes and quickly changing. He shook out his jeans before tossing them into his hamper with the shirt he had been wearing. Although he was reluctant to go back out there, part of him was even more nervous about leaving Spock alone in his room. The commander professed his trustworthiness, but Jim was still gun shy about having any sort of visitor.

After a few minutes of staring at himself in the mirror, Jim decided it was time to go out and face his Vulcan companion. He opened the door and expected to see Spock watching him.

He did not expect a tranced out Vulcan reclining on his bed with a pile of blankets obscuring his form.

It was obvious (at least to Jim) that Spock was meditating in order to regulate his body temperature. What was less obvious was how long this would take. Jim sat in the hard metal chair, watching the blankets rise and fall with Spock's breathing. There was something slightly hypnotic about watching someone else sleep, even if Spock wasn't actually asleep. Jim tore his eyes away and looked down at his desk, the only other real piece of furniture he could fit in the room. It was a half desk, the dresser shoved in next to it.

His latest saved book was sitting there. Jim had hunted this one down yesterday, intrigued by the idea of the Kobayashi Maru exam. From what he had read, no one ever passed it. The simulation was an unbeatable scenario meant to test those going into the command track. Jim opened to the marked page and continued reading, wanting to finish the book by the time Spock came to again. Hopefully that would be sometime tonight, as Jim needed sleep too. And he would _not_ sleep with someone he barely knew in the same room.

It was almost too much for him to process, so Jim did the one thing he knew would help. He distracted himself. This time it was a book. Last time, it had been repairing something. Next time, who knew? Taking advantage of any opportunity to not dwell on things gave Jim momentary peace of mind.

Reading over the process of testing, Jim decided that the very test was unfair. There was no way to win without changing the set parameters. A cadet would have to change the circumstances of the test in order to even have a chance. In Jim's case, he knew he would hack the program itself, take out the unwinability factors, remove some of the impossible items, and win that way.

Not that he would ever have the chance to do so. One needed to be a cadet first, and as far as that went, the closest he had even come was discussing it with Spock earlier tonight. It still did not cover the problem of tuition or room and board. He turned to the next page in his book, keeping his ears trained in case there was any movement from the direction of the bed.

Jim had finished the section detailing the Kobayashi Maru simulation long before Spock started stirring again. He looked over just in time to see Spock's eyes open slowly, unfocused and distant, still in his own mind. Jim didn't say anything, knowing that being pulled out of a meditative trance too quickly could disorientate a Vulcan. He instead waited patiently for Spock to sit up and blink owlishly at him.

"My apologies," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "It seems that more time passed than I originally estimated."

"It's fine," Jim assured him, setting his book aside. "You feel better at least?"

"Yes." Spock's short answer was accompanied by a curt nod. "I will...gather my belongings and head back to my home."

When Spock started moving, Jim sighed suddenly and shook his head. "No. You can stay here. It's too long a walk and still too cold for you to be heading back. I'll...um...get one of the cots from storage and set it up."

He would have to shift some of his furniture, but it could be done. The dimensions would be tight, and there would be some trouble if either of them had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. Jim had a moment's second thought until he saw Spock give a small shiver even from the cool air outside the blanket.

That was how Jim spent his first night with another person in the same room. He slept less than soundly on his cot, but he still slept. Jim was finally in a deep sleep when he was awoken by the blaring sound of his alarm clock and a sudden crashing as someone sent it to the floor.

He sat bolt upright, blinking when he saw Spock staring at the offending item. A small laugh escaped the sleepy human and he shook his head. Spock was clearly not a morning person.


	5. Kobayashi Maru

The morning was passing painfully slow for Jim as he waiting for Spock to finish his morning ablutions and leave his dorm. Even though the human needed to shower, Jim flat out refused to be so naked and vulnerable with the Vulcan just feet from him. So he would wait, and then reset his door entrance code, _then_ shower. If Spock ever left.

Just as Jim was about to give up hope of his shower, Spock emerged from the bathroom dressed and exceedingly intimidating in his Starfleet blacks. Jim stayed in his chair at his desk, knowing that it was the safest place in the room as it had the smallest space available for any sort of attack. The tight spot also gave him a small measure of comfort.

Spock gave Jim a nod as he ran a hand over the front of his tunic. "I shall take my leave. I do hope we can talk again soon."

Jim inclined his head, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth. He wanted to grab the credit chip from his desk and shove it at Spock, but his body seemed frozen. It was easier to face him in public, and he was slowly realizing what a mistake bringing Spock back here last night actually was. Taking the motion as his cue to leave, Spock turned and headed out the door with one final Vulcan salute.

His breath didn't return to normal until he was locked in his bathroom, the shower running almost painfully hot water onto his back, burning the tension from his muscles. He stood in the spray, eyes closed, concentrating on his heart rate as if he could consciously control it. If there was anything that Vulcan could do that Jim secretly wished he possessed, it was that ability to regulate his bodily functions. Since he couldn't, he let everything calm down a small bit at a time.

He didn't trust the Vulcan as far as he could throw him, and since Vulcan body mass was much denser than human mass, Jim was certain that distance wasn't very far. Everything about Spock's interest screamed personal agenda. Whether that was in Jim's interest or aimed against him, only time could tell. It was the waiting that Jim couldn't stand.

And if it was aimed against him, Jim didn't want to just sit there and take it again. His pride and his reason wouldn't let him suffer like that again. He would choose to leave the campus and Starfleet before he let himself be used and treated as if he was in the wrong.

But James Kirk was not a quitter. He did not walk away without overly adequate reason. He was still the same person who drove his father's car off a cliff to keep if from his step father's clutches. He was still the same person who fought six people in a bar over an imagined insult. He was still the same person who knew how to charm someone out of anything. The only difference was that now, he was a lot more cautious with how he approached people, who he let near, how much he trusted. Jim like to believe he had become smarter about how he used what he already had.

Once he felt confident enough to leave the comfort of his shower, Jim stood in front of his steamed up mirror, staring at the gray maintenance uniform he was getting ready to put on. There was so much he would give up to have it be a red cadet uniform, to have the same level of self motivation in public that he was capable of in private. To be able to stand in front of a group of his peers and give commands like he could in his dreams.

But his subconscious mind was not ready to connect with the real world just yet. With a sigh, Jim slid on his uniform pants and pulled the tunic over his head, frowning slightly as he wiped off his mirror to see that the gray only helped in making him completely invisible. He blended into his walls and surrounding. No wonder people didn't notice him.

A knock sounded on his door, which surprised Jim. Most people used the door chimes, but whoever it was wanted to get his attention. Jim hesitated at the bathroom door, staring at the portal that separated him from whoever had traveled all the way down into his dungeon to locate him. The hardest thing was reaching out and pressing that button that would open his door.

Jim's finger tingled as he felt the mechanism release and his door slid open. To his surprise (and mild amusement), the doctor stood there, a book in one hand and a simulation uniform in the other. An almost sheepish smile was plastered on Bones' face as he waited to possibly be invited in or turned away.

After a moment of staring, Jim took a step back and waved the doctor in, his mind racing as to why McCoy would want to seek him out. Yes, he sort of trusted this man who had healed him so many times but he never would have invited him over.

"Can I help you?" Jim asked patiently, keeping his eyes locked on Bones as he stepped into the doorway, standing next to the control panel and watching Jim.

There was another awkward moment when Bones didn't answer straight away. Instead he shifted his body, leaning against the door before straightening again and attempting a neutral expression.

"I need a favor," Bones said, his gaze never leaving Jim's nervous face. "A huge favor, if you're willing. I'll give you free medical treatment for a year if you do it."

If someone coming to Jim for a favor set off alarm bells, an offer of such a deal set off red alert sirens. Openly staring at the man in his doorway, Jim gave the smallest signal for McCoy to continue, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"See, I have enough classes and credentials to go into space, no matter if the place is a huge death factory, but I don't just want to go. I want to be on the best ship in the 'fleet. I want the _Enterprise_. But in order to look qualified enough I have to participate in the Kobayashi Maru." Bones stopped here, studying Jim's face. There was a moment that Jim felt panic starting to rise in his throat again, but McCoy started talking before it could settle. "I've got most of a team ready to take it. I just need an acting captain-"

"No!" The exclamation came before Bones even finished. "No, no, no, _no_! Get out!"

The doctor held up both hands pleadingly. "Wait, just hear me out! It's only going to be five other people and Commander Spock oversee...ing-"

The look on Jim's face caused the doctor to freeze. He now knew who had suggested this to Bones and Jim found himself feeling two different emotions. The first was a thrill that Spock felt he could do this well enough to suggest it in the first place.

The other was terror that Spock felt he could do this at all.

"You do know that it's an unbeatable scenario, right?" Jim waited for Bones to give a nod. "And that no one has ever passed?" Again the doctor nodded. "And that if I help, if I decide this is worth it, _if_ I trust you enough to put me into this situation, I _will_ be finding a way to win?"

Bones hesitated, his eyes registering concern. "You're going to cheat," he said as a statement. Bones knew that if anything, Jim needed absolute control over situations before he agreed to participate. He needed certainty of the people, the place, the outcome. This led to Bones being able to predict some of his reactions, but at the same time, it also led to some more difficult of their interactions while Jim sat in a hospital bed and Bones tried to convince him to press charges.

In the long run, it also gave McCoy much needed insight into Jim's psyche. And gave him one last shot to convince the reluctant genius into helping him. Bones let his gaze fall to the floor, and Jim knew what he was about to say before it ever came out, and absolutely hated Bones for doing this to him.

"You know that this would get me on the _Enterprise_ and let me help my daughter that much more, right?"

-oOo-

Jim had to play up the cocky captain bit. After what he was pulling on everyone, that's how it had to go down. He glanced over at the lieutenant sitting in the communications chair, the first one to speak during this test.

"We're receiving a distress signal from the USS Kobayashi Maru. The ship has lost power and is stranded. Starfleet Command has ordered us to rescue them."

"Starfleet Command has ordered us to rescue them..._Captain_."

With a roll of his eyes, McCoy turned to his console, away from Jim. There was no knowing what was going through the doctor's head at Jim's sudden transformation into this cocky and arrogant acting captain. "Two Klingon vessels have entered the neutral zone and are locking weapons on us."

Jim shot a smile in the direction the navigation controls, giving a small shrug. "That's okay."

"That's okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it." Jim took a seat in the captain's chair, the one Spock had occupied that night he had nearly scared Jim into a full out panic attack. The only thing keeping him in this state of mind was that he wanted to help Bones' daughter, and in order to do that, he needed to be a whole, healthy person. Someone who could cope with this stress. Even as his insides were screaming for him to abandon this false bravado, he had to continue.

The simulation triggered the warbirds to open fire. Instead of reacting to that, Jim turned away from the bulk of the students and focused on the single female in the room, the only person he was willing to trust at the moment other than Bones. "Alert medical bay to prepare to receive all crew members from the damaged ship."

She gave him a disbelieving look, as if he was insane. Which at this point didn't surprise Jim in the least. "And how do you expect us to rescue them when we're surrounded by Klingons, Captain?"

"Alert medical," Jim shot back, being just as sarcastic. This was a simulation, and he knew it. But at any moment, his actual plan would start taking effect and Jim would end this quickly and go back to hiding himself in his room with no one bothering him and no one invading his personal space or privacy.

"Our ship is being hit. Shields at sixty percent."

His attention pulled back to McCoy, Jim nodded. "I understand."

"Well should we, I don't know, fire back?" Even if his attitude at this point was completely warranted, it panged Jim, knowing that while he was helping Bones, he might be losing one of the only people he actually liked in this place.

So there was only a second's pause before he answered. "No."

Bones' expression was one of fascinated horror, or horrified fascination. "Of course not," he responded, turning back to his console.

Then the blessed moment had come when the single thing Jim could do right took place. Something that he had planned out to perfection and with precision. Change the scenario, alter the specifications of the simulation. That had been his plan. And when the computer screens flickered out and everyone started turning to one another, Jim tried hard to keep the expression on his face neutral. Invisible he might be, but useless he most definitely was not.

The simulation turned back on, and Jim nodded at the ships on the screen. "Hmm... arm photons, prepare to fire on the Klingon warbirds."

"Yes, sir," came from the cadet sitting in the security seat. Bones gestured angrily at Jim, ready to stand and face him.

"Jim, their shields are still up."

Playing his part again, Jim gave Bones a curious look, arching his eyebrows. "Are they?"

It took a moment of McCoy looking at his screen before he replied. "No. They're not."

And that ended it. Jim sat back in his seat and waited for the ensuing explosion on the screen that signaled the destruction of the Klingons. Despite everything he had read and expected, Jim had rewritten the rules, setting up the stage for victory.

"Begin rescue of the stranded crew," he said, standing from his chair and inching closer to the door, looking around at his 'crew'. "So, we've managed to eliminate all enemy ships, no one on board was injured, _and_ the successful rescue of the Kobayashi Maru crew is underway." Giving one last glance up at the shadow behind the glass overview window, Jim took the opportunity to slide out the simulator's door and into the hall. If he was lucky, he would be all the way back into his room before the shock of what had transpired actually wore off.

It didn't give him any real pleasure to have beaten the unwinnable scenario like that. Especially not since he recognized the coding in the system as he was overwriting it earlier that day. The same coding he had run into just yesterday while repairing Spock's computer.

The Vulcan had programmed the test. Jim knew that. And he had destroyed the programming in the process of hacking it. It would take the commander at least two days to work out the worm without Jim's help. And in that time, Jim would be packed and off the campus, somewhere else. This breach of security would get him fired, but to help someone else, Jim would gladly take those consequences, especially since the person he helped deserved everything he could give.

It was the longest walk back Jim had ever encountered. Everything moved in slow motion, thoughts running through his mind at a million bytes per minute. Spock would hate him. Bones would get where he needed to be, but hate him. And it was no less than he deserved at this point. He had taken advantage of something he shouldn't have. He was no better than Gary.

That was the final thought Jim had before he opened his door and walked through, forgetting to lock it as he fell into his bed. Sheer exhaustion tore at him from both his long night and from trying to do something that made him so many levels of uncomfortable. The panic finally kicked in, and Jim buried his face into his pillow, screaming out his frustration and anger.

He would be happy if he never saw another person again for the rest of his life. But that was not James Kirk's fate.

**A/N:** Why yes, that is most of the Kobayashi Maru scene. With a little twist. And no, Jim is not yet comfortable with people. But he is still Jim. :)


	6. Lost in Transmission

Spock did the smart thing and waited until the other students had vacated the simulator before going over to the control console and opening the program files. Somehow, and he wanted to know exactly how, James Kirk had beaten his simulation.

The files seemed untouched, but Spock's eidetic memory allowed him to see the added folder inside the actual program. Bringing the contents up, understanding finally dawned on the Vulcan. Kirk had found a way to implant a subroutine that would take days to remove from the simulation databanks without leaving any lasting corruption on the files.

This type of work would only take the genius a matter of minutes to actually finish. Spock had firsthand knowledge of the computer literacy and speed the human possessed. It was as if Kirk knew exactly what to go after when he was working and that led Spock to the knowledge that this must be the human's doing.

Leaving the simulator control room, Spock was so focused on confronting Kirk that he nearly ran full into Lieutenant Uhura, who stood by waiting for him. He blinked twice at her before continuing on his way, hearing her fall into step behind him.

"Sir, permission to speak freely," she said quickly, easily keeping up with the Vulcan's longer strides.

"Permission granted," Spock replied almost automatically. It still surprised him that the cadet managed to keep such a professional front while in public. Especially after they had very nearly given into a romantic relationship, although Spock put an end to it swiftly because of strict regulations against teacher/student relations.

"Sir, I suspect that Kirk cheated."

He slowed, just enough for her to come even with him, and glanced over at the lieutenant with interest. "And what leads you to that conclusion?"

"I am well aware of the test's parameters," Uhura continued, her head held high. "And that there is no winning scenario. Therefore, only one conclusion can be made, and that is that Kirk altered the test, hacked into it, and cheated so that his friend would look good."

Spock knew better, though. Kirk hadn't cheated to help Bones. Kirk cheated to guarantee an outcome that favored his obsessive need for control. Every action he had seen from the human suggested that Kirk did not accept failure in any form, whether it was failure to hold to his own beliefs, or failure to pass a test. He would rather never face a situation where failure was an option than take the chance that he might not pass.

As they made their way out into the sunlight, Spock let his eyes wander over to the patch of grass where he had sat with Kirk, sharing the stars. It had been peaceful until his teeth started chattering and driving away further conversation. Pushing that thought aside, he turned in the direction of Kirk's residence.

"Cadet, while I appreciate your honesty, I must inform you that there are extenuating circumstances that I must look into before any charges are made." Spock kept walking, refusing to acknowledge that she was correct. "We will discuss this again at a later date."

Even when he wasn't looking directly at her, Spock could still feel her stare and got a good sense of where her mind was going.

"Your office?" she asked.

"Tomorrow," he said, nodding as he pushed the door open to Kirk's dorm. He left her outside, determined to find Kirk before seeing anyone else. Taking the stairs down three at a time, Spock found himself in a very quiet basement.

The door leading to Kirk's quarters was at the end of the hall. Spock was about to ring the chime but noticed that the green light was on. The door was unlocked. It was incongruous with Kirk's protective personality. Without a second thought, Spock opened the door to make certain that James Kirk was actually there and uninjured.

Kirk was there, and Spock froze in the doorway, his instincts screaming that this human was not okay. He was laying on his stomach, staring at his desk, face completely blank. After a moment of watching for movement, Spock took four quick steps forward and knelt down, hesitating before he placed a hand on Kirk's shoulder.

That earned a reaction as Kirk's hand flew out in an open palmed strike, hitting Spock's chest and overbalancing him. Even as Spock's ass hit the floor, Kirk was sitting up and pressing himself tight in the corner that nestled his bed. His blue eyes were wide, staring, and his arms were up defensively in front of himself.

"Mr. Kirk! Jim!" Spock stayed where he was, not wanting to seem aggressive or threatening if he stood. The strength behind that blow gave Spock something to think about. This human knew already how to defend himself, and had the power to do so.

Recognition dawned on Kirk's face and he let his arms fall slightly. The human was still visibly tensed, but he did sit down on his knees, eyes never leaving Spock's face.

"What are you doing here?" he asked suspiciously. This was a huge difference from sitting in the grass and talking. "Take it up with command if you got a problem with me beating your test."

While Spock did indeed have a problem with the way Kirk won, he was determined to first put the human at ease, having successfully frightened him into this defensive stance.

"I am here to inquire as to your personal well being," Spock stated calmly. "What happened today could not have been easy for you, and I surmised that your haste in leaving was caused by your discomfort with the general atmosphere."

"And what g-gave you that idea?" Kirk's quick response, although said with a slight nuance of anger, was tempered by his wavering voice. He was nervous. And although Spock could correct the situation, his methods of doing so would be disquieting to the overly cautious Kirk.

"I do know of your history, Jim. And being as such, know why you are uncomfortable in the presence of others." This was said to put the human at ease. But contrary to Spock's original intent, Kirk stiffened further, his eyes narrowing.

"And what the hell would you know about my past?"

Feeling an unnatural amount of heat in his face as his heart rate inexplicably sped up, Spock blinked twice before he answered. "I will not do you the dishonor by not telling you that I have indeed researched your past. Since the first day I met you I was intrigued and wanted to know more about you. It seemed to be useful to look into your files."

Kirk's face actually became angrier at Spock's admission. "Your credits are on the desk. Take them and get out."

There was clearly no comfort he could offer Kirk, so Spock decided it would be better to retreat and give the human time. He would have left the credits, but from the look on Kirk's face, he would just get them thrown at him as he walked down the hall. Spock picked up the chip and turned, but decided against saying anything before he left the room.

There would be more time later to say something.

-oOo-

Jim sat with his PADD in front of him, connected through a hijacked connection to the Starfleet terminals. It was almost three hours since Spock had left, and Jim needed to take his mind off of things so he started one of his favorite past times. Hacking into the transmissions computers to read translated transcriptions.

Only one came in that was even remotely interesting, and that was an alert put out by the Klingons. Fourty seven ships destroyed by Romulans on the edge of Klingon space. Jim shook his head. Everyone knew full well that the Klingons would kill anything in their territory, but to be so completely overwhelmed by Romulans was a new one even for him.

He tossed his PADD aside and rolled off his bed, wondering vaguely how long he would have before charges were pressed for his stunt earlier in the day. He needed to be packed and gone before then. He didn't have the credits for a private shuttle, so he would be stuck in a public transport, which made him shiver at the very thought.

Three bags was more than enough to pack everything Jim currently owned. It didn't depress him as it used to. He had lost so much during all his running, and now he found it easier to keep his things in order this way rather than having too much stuff to bring along.

It did depress him that he was going to be on the run once more. Jim knew that one day he needed to settle into a place, find his niche. But as of yet, nowhere seemed like home. Nothing could compare to that feeling of safe and happy most people described as being home.

As much as he wanted to stay, there was no way he was going to make it through the next few days unscathed. Unknown to Jim, Spock was completely correct in his assessment that James Kirk could not live with failure. So he changed the conditions to a point where he could not fail. But Jim was good at finding a path that would lead to certain victory, even if it was sometimes through more questionable routes. It was a trait he shared with his father, which he learned through Pike's dissertation. Both George and Jim could see the way through all the smoke, and they could both make their decisions with careful precision usually reserved for the more studied moments.

With his bags lined up near the door, Jim fell back onto his bed, picking up his PADD as he did. He would need to kill an hour until his flight, so he decided to surf along the transmissions again.

It was mostly the same items he had just read with a few added notes, translation corrections, and replies. Jim frowned at some of the corrections, knowing that even he could have done better than some of the cadets who were supposed to be masters in their field. Xenolinguistics was not something just anyone could do, but those who chose it had to be the top of their classes. A message flashed above all that, and Jim opened it, curious as to what it was.

Something was incoming, being translated at high pace. An incoming call for aid from Vulcan. _That _managed to gain Jim's immediate attention as he stared at the words being transcribed.

-oOo-

Amanda Grayson ran out of her home on Vulcan, head wrap loose around her hair and flapping around in the wind like some sort of wild flag. She had never in her years seen anything like what she was seeing now. A giant red laser was destroying the planet she had come to call home, and she had no idea the reasoning behind it.

Sarek walked briskly from the house and took her arm. "Come. We must get to the council chambers immediately." He turned from her, leaving the human woman standing in place, staring at the strange anomaly.

Before she turned to join her husband and bondmate, Amanda looked to her Vulcan home one last time. This may very well be the last she saw of this planet if that monstrosity had its way. She heard Sarek calling for her and tore her gaze away to follow him to their transporter.

"Sarek, what's going on?"

The Vulcan ambassador looked over once at his wife as he carefully steered the aircar. "The official reports claim that it is a lightning storm."

Not one to contradict her husband, Amanda bit her lip but could not refrain from speaking her mind. "That is nothing like any lightning storm I've ever seen."

"Which is why we have sent for Starfleet assistance," Sarek explained. Amanda gave one last nod, sitting back and staying silent for the remainder of the ride.

-oOo-

Back on Earth, a messenger was running from the communications building to the general administrations building, a PADD gripped tightly in his hands. The call had gone out for all cadets to report to hangar bay one, but there was a problem.

The messenger slipped into the building, where mass chaos was ensuing. He slipped through to Captain Pike and handed him the PADD.

"Oh, no you don't," Pike said as soon as he read what the message said. Turning to the messenger, he nodded and handed the PADD back, striding from the room and towards the docking bay. They would be leaving soon enough, so there was no time for these games.

Doctor McCoy was standing with the medical personal and Pike gestured for him. Once McCoy was near enough, Pike pointed to the doors.

"Find Jim. He's in hangar bay two. And McCoy, don't come back here without him." Pike knew that once Jim left Starfleet, there would be no finding him until he wanted to be found, and that was something he could not allow.

The doctor nodded and raced off, his mind a mess of how on Earth he was going to get James Kirk to agree to join them on the _Enterprise_.

**A/N:** Hugs to everyone who has posted/favorited/put on alert. I get little chimes on my phone every time I get an email, and I love turning my phone on and hearing the chimes for half a minute straight and seeing the lists. It makes my day!

And apologies for this one taking so long. I have a few things going on right now (county fair week and my job is ten times harder during weeks like this) and have been trying to get my college classes straightened. Hopefully in the next few days I can get more on track. :)


	7. Hypo Tension

**A/N:** And now for some minor comic relief, because after the week I had, I need a small laugh. Sorry again for it taking so long. But I finally had a day off to write, so here you go.

The line for the public transport wound its way across the hangar bay, and Jim was standing near the middle of it. The bags holding his pilfered books and other useless sundries lay near his feet, the one holding the more important items was strapped to his back. Hoisting it up further, he eyed the unmoving line before letting out an aggravated sigh. This was indeed going to be a trial.

With San Francisco being one of the major thoroughfares for Earth, there were too many people to count, although Jim would estimate the number he was surrounded by to be in the thousands. Most were human, but there was a glimpse of green Orion skin or a pointed Vulcanoid ear. As far as Jim was concerned, the humans were the worse of the lot. Orions you could count on to come on to you and most Vulcanoids were non-combatant.

So standing there, in the middle of a sea of humans, Jim was far from surprised when a fight broke out. He was a bit shocked, though, when the fight broke out _right_ in front of him. Two human males were both hitting on the same human female, and before the girl could make her choice, the men decided to make her choice easy by challenging one another. Their posturing caused the girl to turn and walk away, some blame was tossed around, and then a punch was thrown.

Being the intelligent person he was, Jim's first reaction was to try to get his bags and walk away. But the crowd, upon seeing the fight, created an impenetrable circle with Jim front and center. As the unfortunate human was turning to find a better way out, a fist collided with the side of his head, a missed punch, and Jim went down hard, blacking out for a moment.

"Shit! Jim! Come on! Snap out of it!"

A hypo was pressed into the side of his neck, sufficiently waking the dazed Jim. Blinking a few times to try to regain vision in his left eye, he looked up and saw Bones kneeling over him, looking concerned. The crowd around him had dispersed, and the brawlers seemed to have been apprehended by the authorities (meaning Starfleet personal).

"What...happened?"

Bones gave him a look and Jim grew silent. "You got cold cocked. What the hell do you think happened? What were you doing in another fight?"

"I wasn't," Jim said as he tried to sit up. His entire body started sweating suddenly and he felt like he was going to be sick. "Oh...uh...I think I'm going to throw up..."

A hand went to his forehead, and Jim was a bit surprised to feel that it was so much cooler than his own skin. When McCoy reached for the discarded hypo and held it up, the doctor actually paled. "Come on, Jim, up you go."

He was hauled to his feet, one arm draped over McCoy's shoulders as the doctor helped him walk from the hangar bay. Jim had no clue where he was being brought as the vision in his eyes blurred suddenly and he felt dampness forming underneath his clothes. A droplet of sweat rolled down his spine, and the uncomfortable sensation of his hair sticking to his forehead brought Jim to bring his eyes to the doctor.

"What was in that?"

"It was supposed to be a basic pain killer," Bones said, hitching his hip to bring Jim up a bit further from where he was starting to droop. "It may have been a vaccine against infection from Malvaran mud fleas."

Jim's head was starting to spin with trying to process that information. No, correction, it was actually spinning as his skull started pounding. His entire head felt heavy and listed to the side, his body attempting to follow suit even as Bones pushed him into the hangar not far from the one he was just in. This one was crowded with cadets in red uniforms being given orders and rushing to transport ships. Jim wanted to turn back and go in the opposite direction, but Bones was the only thing holding him upright.

"Come on, I'm supposed to be on the ship already. I'm going to bring you with me." Even though Bones was careful, he still bumped his patient into a few people while passing, trying to avoid being spotted by anyone else.

He didn't have the energy to argue with the doctor even as he was dragged up to a shuttle where a Starfleet officer was checking in cadets. Jim let out a groan as he was forced up the ramp and to the shuttle doors, stopping only because he was forced to by a small man trying to look official and intimidating.

Without even looking up, the officer checked off something on the PADD before pausing. "Mr. Kirk is not cleared to be aboard the _Enterprise_."

McCoy's expression actually became hardened, and Jim recognized that look. "Medical Code states the treatment and transport of a patient to be determined at the discretion of his attending physician, which is me. So, I'm taking Mr. Kirk aboard. Or would you like to explain to Captain Pike why the Enterprise warped into a crisis without one of its senior medical officers?" His tone brooked no argument, and even Jim was nodding in approval despite the fact that he wanted nothing to do with this shuttle or where it was heading.

The man just nodded and checked something on his PADD. "As you were," he muttered, stepping aside.

Jim couldn't help it and leaned into Bones as he whispered to the officer. "As _you_ were."

-oOo-

Pike walked through the bridge, looking at his crew. With everyone running around and doing final checks of the fleet's new flagship, it was hard to see who was there and who wasn't. But Chris noticed almost immediately that his helmsman and navigator were new to him, not the same ones he had spent the last few months working with and prepping for this journey. But that explanation could come later. First they needed to head out.

Looking over at his science officer, Pike paused as he moved past and to his chair. "Mister Spock?"

The Vulcan took a moment to check his console before giving the answer to the unspoken question that Pike was asking. This was why Chris wanted his bridge crew. They knew without actually being asked or told. "Captain. Engineering reports ready for launch."

"Thank you," Chris responded as he sat in the captain's chair. He looked around at his bridge crew and gave them all a nod. "Ladies and gentlemen, the maiden voyage of our newest flagship deserves more pomp and circumstance than we can afford today. A christening will just have to be our reward for a safe return. Carry on." He pressed the button on his chair to turn the intercom on, trying not to sound like his first captain had: pompous and annoying. "All decks, this is Captain Pike, prepare for immediate departure. Helm, thrusters."

Pike would have smiled as the ship left the spacedock. But this was to be a serious maiden voyage, not the real launch into open space he had been preparing for. They had a mission to complete, so when he told the pilot to punch it, he didn't expect the engines to flare up and nothing to happen. His smooth running bridge crew all paused to look up at the pilot, which Chris did as well.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Lieutenant, where's Helmsman McKenna?"

The Asian turned in his seat to look back after letting up on the throttle. "He has lungworm, sir. He couldn't report to his post. I'm Hikaru Sulu."

Sulu. That must make the navigator the genius Russian if Pike knew his cadets at all. The Russian and the Asian were one of those teams you wanted together at all times. It at least explained why Mitchell and McKenna were both missing. They were nearly the same as far as compatibility went. "And you are a pilot, right?" he joked.

"Uh, very much so, sir." Pike was glad that this Sulu had a sense of humor. "I'm, uh, not sure what's wrong."

"Is the parking break on?" Chris couldn't help but roll his eyes a little. This would leave them several minutes behind the rest of the fleet.

"Uh, no. I'll figure it out, I'm just, uh..."

"Have you disengaged the external inertial dampener?" came that distinct know-it-all tone from Spock. Chris glanced back at him before his gaze went back to Sulu. Spock knew this ship almost as well as those who designed and built it.

After fiddling with a few buttons, Sulu sat back in his seat. Pike wanted to laugh at how embarrassed the helmsman appeared, but that would be unprofessional. "Ready for warp, sir."

The captain gave a quick nod and leaned back in his own chair, looking at the viewscreen in front of him. "Let's punch it."

-oOo-

"May I have your attention, please. At twenty-two hundred hours, telemetry detected at an anomaly in the neutral zone. What appeared to be a lightning storm in space. Soon after, Starfleet received a distress signal from Wulcan High Command that their planet was experiencing seismic actiwity. Our mission is to assess the condition of Wulcan, and to assist in the ewacuations if necessary. We should be arriving at Wulcan within three minutes. Thank you for your time."

-oOo-

The transmission hadn't even finished yet when Jim sat bolt upright. Something had been bothering him since he had read the translation of the incoming transmissions, and it finally hit him. "Lightning storm!"

A tricorder was run over his body as Jim sat there, trying to get his bearings. McCoy leaned in close and looked into his eyes, doing what good doctors did best. "Ah, Jim, you're awake. How do you feel?" After Jim let out a few groans, Bones finished his check and let his gaze wander over Jim's body until his eyes finally landed on Jim's hands. "Good god, man!"

Jim looked over at his friend to see what had caused the exclamation. "What?" Seeing where his gaze was, Jim let his own eyes travel to where his hands sat on the bed still. "Ah! What the hell's this?!" He brought his hands up, looking at the sausage like appendages that where at one point his fingers. They were attached to a pair of liquid filled balloons that were in turn attached to his arms.

Kirk barely heard as Bones said something about it being a reaction to the vaccine. Leave it to Jim to be allergic to a vaccine. Instead his mind went back to what he had been dreaming about while he was under. The lightning storm. He needed someone who worked in linguistics. But first, he needed to know where they were headed. He ran to the nearest console and started replaying the transmission from the Russian. Bones was running a tricorder over him again as he heard what he needed.

"Nice. We got to stop the ship!" Jim took off down the hall, trying to find a useful computer. There was only one person he knew of who worked in xenolinguistics, and he had no idea if she was even on this ship. Bones chased after him, scanner held in front, appearing to those passing by as if he was being pulled along by the device.

"Jim! I'm not kidding, we need to keep your heart rate down!"

Completely ignoring the doctor, Jim slid to a halt next to a console, quickly pressing a few commands into it to locate Uhura, the girl from the simulation. If she was even on this ship, he would find her and see if she knew about the previous transmission.

"I haven't seen a reaction this severe since med school."

"We're flying into a trap!" Jim said as he got the information he needed. She was on board, and that was excellent news for him. Even being surrounded by people and having Bones chase him down didn't deter what he knew needed to be done. Jim was the only one with this information. But Bones managed to get a hypo just before Jim took off.

"Dammit Jim, stand still." Bones stabbed him in the neck and Jim winced even as he felt the cooling relief run through his body.

"Ow! Stop it!"

The corridors were crowded, but not as much as the communications deck. Jim had to weave in between people to avoid being run into. He barely noticed that people were giving him odd looks, he was so focused on his goal. "Uhura, Uhura?"

The dark skinned cadet turned and spotted Jim running up. Her frown was firmly in place as she walked away from her station to meet him halfway. "Kirk, what are you doing here?"

"The transmission from the Klingon prison planet, what exactly was..."

His question was cut off as the female spotted his hands, her eyes widening. "Oh my god, what's wrong with your hands?!"

"It-it-it..." Jim paused and shot a look at Bones, who was back to scanning him. Waving off the question, he tried to repeat his own. "Look, who is responsible for the Klingon attack? Was the ship Romul..." His word trailed off and Jim tried to swallow past the feeling in his mouth that suddenly set in.

"Was the ship _what_?" Uhura asked, her confused expression flicking from Jim to Bones. He looked over at the doctor, gesturing at his face with his still swollen hands.

"What's happening to my mouth?"

The doctor had the grace to look only mildly concerned as he scanned Jim's head. "You got numb tongue?"

"Numb tongue?!" Jim practically shouted, his face turning mottled as he eyed his friend. His friend who was supposed to be supplying free medical treatment. This was _not_ what Jim had had in mind when he agreed to this.

Holding up one hand, Bones tried to give Jim a reassuring smile. "I can fix that!" The doctor ran off, leaving Jim in the middle of the deck with only one option as Uhura repeated her question.

"Was the ship what?"

Trying to get a word past his his dead tongue was harder than he would have imagined at first. His throat was seizing with the effort he put behind his word, but finally after a third try and more than confusing Uhura, Jim got the right word out. "Romulan!"

Uhura, trying her best to get it right, looked at him. "Romulan?" she asked for clarification. Jim nodded emphatically.

"Yeah!" Jim replied, waiting for her to answer the real question. When his expectant features reached Uhura, she jumped slightly as she realized what he was asking and that she had the answer.

"Yes."

Jim smiled suddenly and nodded. "Yes!" That word was cut off as Bones came out of nowhere and stabbed him with another hypo. Turning away from the offending object and giving the doctor a glare, Jim cursed and took off down the corridor again, intent on making it to the bridge. Hopefully the swelling and numb tongue wore off by then and McCoy stopped stabbing him with the needles of death.


	8. Romulans and Vulcans

**A/N: **And this is where we depart a little from the movie. Okay...depart a lot. Some things must and always do change, my friends. First part of course is going to be movie stuff. (This would be so much harder if I didn't have the movie memorized...) Oh, and long chapter is _looong_!

"Captain!"

Jim slowed only when he realized exactly how many people were on the bridge. This was almost too much. But he had to warn someone. Upon seeing the familiar face of Captain Pike, Jim took a few steps forward again, focusing solely upon the man who had done so much already as far as getting Jim a place on the campus and helping with setting up his pay.

Bones tried to catch up, closely followed by Uhura, who were both trying to stop him from going onto the bridge. "Jim, no!"

Ignoring them, Jim kept going, passing by everyone, trying not to notice the all to conspicuous Vulcan standing nearby. "Captain Pike, we have to stop the ship!"

Looking over at Jim, Pike seemed at first surprised, then somewhat pleased, then slightly confused, before finishing on highly impressed. "Kirk? McCoy, how the hell did you manage to get him on board the Enterprise?!"

When Jim hurried forward, Bones tried to block him. "Captain, this man's under the influence of a severe reaction of a Melvaran flea vaccine, completely..."

Jim cut off the doctor. He was only trying to protect him, but this needed to be said. "Bones, Bones..." He tried to wave McCoy off, but the good doctor wasn't having any of that.

"...delusional," Bones finished. He stopped just behind Jim while Uhura stuck to the side, watching. "I take full responsibility."

Managing to shake off Bones' hand from his arm, Jim stalked right up to Pike, leveling a look at the captain. "Vulcan is not experiencing a natural disaster. It's being attacked by Romulans."

"Romulans?" The level of disbelief in Pike's voice told Jim that even he didn't believe it. "Mr. Kirk, I think you've had enough excitement for one day. McCoy take him back to medical, we'll have words later. Civilians should be confined to the lower decks."

Putting a hand on Jim's arm to pull him back, Bones was ready to drag Jim away. "Aye Captain."

What Bones did not count on was Jim's automatic reaction to someone trying to manhandle him without his permission while he was strong enough to fight back and had no incentive to stay non-violent. Yanking his arm free, Jim shoved Bones bodily from himself, causing the doctor to take several stumbling steps backwards before he threw his hands up and retreated. Jim headed in the opposite direction.

"Look, sir, that same anomaly-"

Pike interrupted what Jim was saying, cutting him off. "Mr. Kirk-"

To everyone's surprise, Pike was in turn cut off by Spock, who took a few steps forward, giving first Jim a look of confusion before that disappeared and he turned to Pike, intent upon reminding him of proper procedure. "Mr. Kirk is not cleared to be aboard this vessel."

Bones wasn't able to get Jim to quite, he would be damned if he would let Spock do it. Even if he did like the Vulcan, he didn't trust him in the least. "Look, I get it, you're a great conversationalist. I'd love to do it again with you too."

"I can remove the civilian-" Spock started, apparently tuning out Jim's sarcastic response, but the human wasn't having any of that. His hackles rose as he glared at the Vulcan.

"Try it!" he shot at Spock. The science officer would fully know what forcing Jim to do anything would result in. "This _civilian_ is trying to save the bridge."

Turning to Jim, Spock rose one eyebrow. Here he wasn't the same Vulcan who had sat with Jim in the grass. He was a Starfleet commander, following the rules. "By recommending a full stop mid-warp during a rescue mission?"

"It's not a rescue mission," Jim said with exasperation. "Listen, it's an attack."

Granted, if Jim had been in charge, he would have questioned it too. But when Spock gave him the look that said he didn't even consider it a possibility, Jim started to grow a bit angry.

"Based on what facts?" Spock asked. Pike didn't have time to get a word in edgewise as Spock and Jim verbally sparred. But this was important, and Jim would not back down, hide away in some room, become invisible. His life, as well as everyone on this ship, was in jeopardy.

"That same anomaly, a lightning storm in space that we saw today, also occurred on the day of my birth!" Jim spat out, glaring at Spock. "Before a Romulan ship attacked the USS Kelvin!" He turned to the captain and continued. "You know that, sir, I read your dissertation. That ship which had formidable and advanced weaponry was never seen or heard from again. The Kelvin attack to place on the edge of Klingon space and at twenty-three hundred hours last night, there was an attack. Forty-seven Klingon warbirds destroyed by a Romulan, sir. It was reported that the Romulans were in one ship, one massive ship."

The looks he was receiving from not only Pike but from Spock and Bones made Jim want to go back to being invisible. He was a computer tech, not a Starfleet officer. He wasn't even _in_ Starfleet. But here he was, on the flagship's bridge, telling them that they were headed into a warzone. This was all wrong, and not where Jim should be right now, he knew that.

"And you know of this Klingon attack how?" Pike asked. Jim didn't want to tell him he had hacked into Starfleet official records, but thankfully Uhura seemed to find her tongue at that moment.

"Sir, I intercepted and translated the message myself. Kirk's report is accurate."

Jim nodded and turned back to Pike. "We're warping into a trap, sir. The Romulans are waiting for us, I promise you that."

Spock took a step forward, forcing Jim to take a step off the platform holding the Captain's chair. The Vulcan gave him an indecipherable look, but spoke to Pike. "His logic is sound." As if he didn't want Jim to be given too much credit, he also waved a hand back at Uhura. "And Lieutenant Uhura is unmatched in xenolinguistics, we would be wise to accept her conclusion."

After that, so much happened that Jim found himself pressed back against the clear plexglass wall separating the captain's platform and communications station, trying to stay out of everyone's way as they took up battle stations. He resisted the urge to hit the ground when the torpedoes hit with devastating force, instead steadying himself on the wall behind him. If he landed on the floor, he would be helpless, and that was something Jim would accept.

-oOo-

Preparing himself for another assault, Chris was a little surprised when his newly appointed communications officer shouted at him.

"Captain, we're being hailed!"

The viewscreen flickered and a Romulan face appeared, taking up the entirety of scene. Just past the translucent figure Chris could still see the huge Romulan ship outlined against the ritually tattooed and scarred face.

"Hello." Despite his appearance, his voice was actually quite melodic. Chris sat straighter in his chair and stared at the Romulan.

"I'm Captain Christopher Pike. To whom am I speaking?"

The man inclined his head ever so slightly in an almost companionable greeting. "Hi Christopher, I'm Nero."

Despite his friendly greeting, Chris was still angry that this ship had destroyed so many Starfleet vessels, whose remains were now floating in open space. "You've declared war against the Federation. Withdraw. I'll agree to arrange a conference with Romulan leadership at a neutral location."

"I do not speak for the Empire. We stand apart." Nero's eyes traveled over those he could see in his own viewscreen. "As does your Vulcan crewmember. Isn't that right, Spock?"

Every eye went to Spock. Chris felt a moment of disbelief. Why would his first know this Romulan threat? But Spock took a few steps forward with a confused arch to his brow as he regarded Nero.

"Pardon me, I do not believe that you and I are acquainted?"

Eyes went back to the Romulan, and Chris waited with baited breath for the answer. "No, we're not. Not yet. Spock, there's something I would like you to see. Captain Pike, your transporter has been disabled. As you can see by the rest of your armada, you have no choice. You will man a shuttle, come aboard the _Narada_, for negotiations."

Pike moved to stand, expecting the transmission to cut off there, but it seemed that Nero had seen something else that caught his interest. His nose crinkled and brow ridges pulled together in slight anger. "James Kirk, hiding behind his subordinates?! Christopher, I demand you send _that_ human in your stead!"

Chris turned and stared at the shocked face of Kirk. The kid looked as if he wanted to dissolve into the floor and never be seen again. First Spock, and now Kirk? What did the computer programmer have to do with Romulans? His suspicion was forced down, however, as he gave a response to Nero's request. "No. I am captain of this vessel. You will deal with me."

"So be it," Nero said. The viewscreen image dissolved and Chris gave himself a moment before he stood and took a few steps away from his chair. He needed a moment to think, but that was interrupted by Kirk's sudden exclamation.

"He'll kill you, you know that!"

"Your survival is unlikely," Spock agreed. The Vulcan moved to follow, Kirk right behind him. Chris could see how pale the kid's face was, but he seemed to be holding his own.

"Captain, we gain nothing by diplomacy. Going over to that ship is a mistake." That even Kirk saw it made Chris slow. But he shouldn't have been surprised; Kirk was highly intelligent and capable of seeing the big picture almost immediately.

"I, too, agree," Spock added. "You should re-think your strategy."

Finally Pike turned to address the two trying to stop him. "I understand that," he stated carefully. Then he turned to the rest of the bridge. "I need officers who have been trained in advanced hand-to-hand combat."

"I have training, sir," came from Sulu. Although Chris would have preferred that the pilot stayed, he was needed to make Chris's grand plan come to reality. He waved the helmsman over.

"Come with me. Kirk, you too. You're not supposed to be here anyway. Chekov, you have the conn."

The young Russian saluted, watching as they left the bridge. "Aye aye Captain."

-oOo-

From that point on, everything for Jim was a blur. The space jump he was taught to do in five minutes, fighting the Romulans and nearly falling to his death, watching as Vulcan was destroyed and that heartbreaking moment when Spock lost his mother. Being bandaged in the medbay by Bones while the surviving Vulcan's grieved.

The sequence of events replayed in his head even as his mind struggled to consciousness. A headache was forming behind his eyes as he shivered for a moment, a beeping and cool alto voice assailing his ears. He couldn't remember after that, or when he had gone to sleep. He had been on the bridge, something about an alternate reality, then Spock...warm fingers on his neck...that feeling of panic and dread that set in right before...

Jim sat bolt upright in the small escape pod, nearly bashing his head off the hatch. The voice was telling him to stay put and wait for help, but Jim had other plans. He had never in his life relied upon anyone else to save him, he wasn't about to start now. Opening the hatch to the escape pod, the cold air hit him in a wave. Of course the planet was frozen. That would be just his luck. Of all the places to be dropped, he was put on a tundra.

Grabbing the bag of survival gear inside the pod, Jim did the only thing he could do. Hand over hand, he started climbing from the crater that was the pod's landing point. The ice bit into his palms, and he slipped more than a few times, but when he finally pulled himself up and above the lip, rolling onto his back, Jim realized the full extent of how hard he was screwed.

There was nothing but white. A vast expanse of ice sheet, no sign of a sun, no warmth, nothing but clouds and snow. Forcing himself up off the ground, Jim took the coat out of the bag, greatly depleting the contents, and shrugged it on. Thankfully it still held some of the warmth from the pod and the difference was huge.

The trek wasn't difficult. Jim started muttering to himself, though, more to keep himself moving than anything. If he couldn't keep himself angry, the feeling of that hand rendering him helpless would have caused him to start panicking. And Jim needed rational thought to get himself out of this. So he headed in the direction the voice in the pod said a Starfleet base was located. If he could make it there then he would have some chance of maybe making it back to Earth. It was a bit more surprising that the idea of being on a different _planet_ didn't send him reeling into a full blown panic attack, but then Jim did always love the stars.

He had just reached the slightly jagged formations of ice when a sound behind him drew his attention. It was somewhere between a high pitched squeal and a roar. His head jerked backwards, eyes scanning for any movement. Although the thing was blended in slightly, Jim saw it through the cloudy air. A creature, moving in a full dash over the ice, was headed in his direction. Headed with extreme swiftness in his direction. And with obvious deadly intent.

Jim took off, running as fast as he could over the dangerous terrain. His feet tried to slip from underneath him, but he had spent more than his fair share of winters running across Iowa flatlands and icy roads. Moving with the skids, he managed to keep his feet and not fall into one of the many pointed ice rocks.

The creature was gaining on him, and just as Jim turned to face it, he heard another sound. A rumbling from underneath him. A large, red _thing_ burst through the ice shell, its mouth wrapping around the running creature and throwing it aside like a rag doll. Jim was in too much shock to move right away, but when the thing turned to him and roared, sending cold water across his body, Jim turned and started fleeing.

The sound of crashing told him that the thing was keeping up. Jim glanced back to see where it was. His foot caught on an outcropping of ice, sending him flying. Arms flailing to catch himself, Jim was expecting to crash hard into something. Instead he was sent rolling down a rather steep embankment. The thing paused for a moment before leaping after, giving Jim time to find his feet again and take off. It seemed less than graceful on the ice, the only reason Jim wasn't caught yet.

Running full out, Jim scanned the area in front of him for any sign of cover. The cave was not too far, and he gave an extra burst of speed, leaning into his run as he aimed for the entrance. Sliding footsteps behind him told him that it was following as well, and Jim slid into the cave. Ice went flying as the thing rushed after him, its tongue (or whatever it was) shooting out to catch Jim's foot.

This was it. This was how James Kirk would die. Eaten by some ice water creature. But just as Jim was closing his eyes, resigned to his fate, someone rushed past him, swinging a burning torch. The thing backed away, not wanting to deal with the heat the fire was putting off. Personally Jim wanted nothing more than to start himself on fire just to warm up a little and thaw out the frozen sweat on his coat.

The person turned and Jim got his first good look at the old Vulcan who had saved his life. What a Vulcan, a desert dweller, was doing here in the coldest environment Jim had ever seen was lost on Jim. He stared up at the Vulcan as the Vulcan arched an eyebrow at him.

"James T. Kirk?"

Jim wanted to crawl away. Who was this Vulcan. "Ex-excuse me?"

Taking a step forward to help Jim up, the Vulcan paused at the petrified expression on the human's face. "How did you find me?"

"How the _hell_ do you know my name?" Jim asked. He wanted to know how all these people knew who he was and why they were after him.

The Vulcan stared at him for a moment as if contemplating the answer before finally settling on something he could use. "I have been and always will be your friend."

This confused Jim even more. He had no Vulcan friends. The one he was actually starting to trust had betrayed him in the gravest way. "Wha?...Uh...Look, I don't know you."

He almost smiled. But Vulcans do not smile, especially ancient ones who looked like they should be in the comfort of a Vulcan retirement home. "I am Spock."

Jim stared, flummoxed. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many questions, so much that needed answers. But only one word would come out.

"Bullshit!"

-oOo-

Spock had a good sized fire burning and made sure Jim was warm before he sat down and started warming himself. The hostility in the human's eyes gave him pause. His Jim was always kind to his friends and acquaintances, which sometimes got him into a great deal of trouble. Nevertheless, seeing the one man he would give his everything to, Spock felt a moment of inexplicable joy. "It is remarkably pleasing to see you again, old friend. Especially after the events of today."

Jim only looked more confused at this, and a little wary. Almost bordering on frightened. That useless human emotion that his Jim never gave time for. "Uh, sir I appreciate what you did for me today, but, but if you were Spock you would know we're not friends at all. You hate me, you marooned me here for mutiny!"

"Mutiny?" Spock asked, one eyebrow raising. "You are not the Captain?"

He shook his head, gesturing at Spock. "No, no. Umm... _you're_ the Captain. I'm...not even in Starfleet..." He seemed slightly shamed by this, and to cover that up, hurried on. "Pike was taken hostage."

"By Nero," Spock finished. It was almost as if he had never lost his Jim. Even this younger scared version had the same tendencies to leave off important aspects of his sentences to be finished by others or not at all. He saw the question in Jim's eyes and started explaining. "He is a particularly troubled Romulan." Holding up his hand, he moved a bit closer to Jim. "Please, allow me. It will be easier."

"Woah, woah. What are you doing?"

The pure panic in Jim's eyes gave Spock pause once more. It was almost as if he was afraid of being touched. But that could not be it. James Kirk was practically fearless. Spock gave him what he hoped to be a reassuring expression before pressing his fingers to Jim's psypoints.

"Our minds," he intoned. "One and together."

The meld went two ways. While Spock was inserting the information on his past and this universes future, he also absorbed those memories that could not be locked down. Everything that caused this version of James Kirk to be created washed into Spock, and the old Vulcan blocked out the emotions of this information, processing it scientifically. As much as he wanted to protect this Jim, it was not his place. When the information had been properly conveyed, Spock pulled out of the meld and watched as Jim stumbled away, his breathing quick and his eyes haunted.

"Forgive me," Spock whispered, wanting to take a step closer to the human, but knowing that with the trauma of his past, Jim would not welcome physical displays of comfort. "Emotional transference is an effect of the mind meld."

It took a moment for Jim to turn again, his blue eyes (so unlike the hazel eyes of Spock's own captain) landed on Spock. "So you do feel?" he asked, the blatant tone of disbelief and a hint of sarcastic anger coloring his voice.

Falling back on years of controlling his emotions, Spock only nodded. "Yes."

"Going back in time, you changed all our lives."

The accusation hung heavily in the air. And being inside Jim's mind, Spock knew fully what the human actually meant with that statement. The abuse at the hands of one who was killed in Spock's own time on the _Enterprise_, the abandonment of his mother, never having met his father, being forced to live a mediocre existence. The genius more than knew everything that would have changed.

But there was no time to go over every detail that had changed. "Jim, we must go. There is a Starfleet outpost not far from here." The Vulcan started back for the cave entrance but was stopped by the human's voice.

"Wait," Jim said, holding out a hand. Spock turned back to him and raised an eyebrow. "Where you came from, did I...did I know my father?"

There was no reason to hide the truth. Spock was certain Jim would continue questioning him unless he gave a straight answer. "Yes. You often spoke of him as being your inspiration for joining Starfleet. He proudly lived to see you become captain of the _Enterprise_."

This seemed to shock Jim. "Captain? I was...I was in Starfleet? I was captain?"

"Of the _Enterprise_," Spock repeated patiently. "A ship we must return you to as soon as possible."

Even if he ignored everything else about Jim's current circumstances, one thing he knew for absolute certainty was that if anyone could come up with a plan to defeat Nero, it was James Kirk. In any and every universe, James Kirk was a leader and a genius. He was a tactical master, and always found the way to win. And his alternate self did not have the creativity to defeat the Romulan. Jim and Spock needed one another, and Spock would make sure that happened.


	9. Emotionally Compromised

This entire plan was stupid.

And reliant on something that had never even been attempted in this reality. Jim stared from Scotty to Spock as they were discussing the equation that would transport them from Delta Vega to the _Enterprise_ in midwarp.

It was suicidal. And stupid.

"The notion of transwarp beaming is like trying to hit a bullet with a smaller bullet whilst wearing a blindfold, riding a horse." He stopped in his rant, and Jim looked over at him as he stared over Spock's shoulder. "What's that?"

Spock didn't bother to turn as he answered. "Your equation for transwarp beaming," he said with perfect calm. Taking a step away so Scotty could look at the numbers and variables on the screen, Spock moved over to the controls.

"Imagine that. It never occurred to me to think of _space_ as the thing that was moving."

Ignoring the accented ramblings of the engineer, Jim watched the Vulcan input information into the transporter's control panel. There were so many questions he still had, the first and foremost coming to his mouth before he could stop it.

"You're coming with us, right?"

"No, Jim, that is not my destiny."

The perfect, rational calm this was spoken with made Jim cringe slightly. "Your dest..." He trailed off, perplexed for a moment. "He... the other Spock is not going to believe me! Only _you_ can explain what's gonna happen!"

Spock looked back at Jim, turning so he could speak. Jim resisted the urge to step back and away fron the Vulcan who had already basically mind raped him. "Under no circumstances, can he be aware of my existence. You must promise me this."

"You're telling me I...I can't tell _you_ that I'm following your own orders?" The thought came to his mind again that this plan was outrageously stupid. "Why not? What happens?"

The Vulcan was calm. He was poised. And he was moving closer. Jim stepped away and to the side, staring him down. "Jim, this is one rule you cannot break. To stop Nero, you alone must take command of your ship."

"_My_ ship?! Are you crazy? I'm not even in Starfleet to begin with! I have no ship!" Rather than confront him head on, Jim took a step behind the handrail separating the main part of the shuttle from the platform. "You go! You know what you're doing!"

His face actually seemed disappointed. Spock's eyebrows pulled together and he took another step forward, hands folding behind his back. "Jim, if I could do what I know you must, I would go in your stead. I know the discomfort you feel doing this, however, if it eases your mind, there is a way to force Spock to step aside. There is Starfleet regulation six-one-nine. Six-one-nine states that any command officer who's emotionally compromised by the mission at hand, must resign said command. I just lost my planet. I can tell you, I am emotionally compromised. What you must do is get me to show it."

"How?" was Jim's question, but that was hidden by Scotty jumping onto the platform.

"Aye then, Laddie. Live or die, let's get this over with." The little creature that was with Scotty, Keenser, tried to climb on the platform, giving a little whining noise. Scott looked down at the thing and shook his head. "You cannae come with me. Go on."

Jim didn't say anything more as Spock started the energizing sequence. "Live long and prosper," came the Vulcan's salute as Jim felt himself turn into atoms and everything went dark for a moment.

-oOo-

The bridge was mostly quiet as everyone went about their duties. Warping towards the Laurentian system, it was obvious that Spock was not changing his mind or going back for Kirk right away. The acting captain took his seat, watching his crew. A blink went of on Chekov's console and the Russian turned to Spock.

"Captain Spock, detecting unauthorized access to water turbine control board."

Spock's eyebrows pulled together as he eyed the console. "Bring up the video," he stated calmly, wanting to see who was on the engineering deck. Whoever it was would face disciplinary action.

From the angle and distance, the people weren't easily recognizable. The screen was too dark, or their clothes, but Spock's sharp eyes caught something. Blond hair and a black wardrobe. But there was no way it could be who Spock thought it was. It was highly impossible.

"Security," he called into his communicator. "Seal the engineering deck. We have intruders in turbine section three. Set phasers to stun."

It took a few minutes before the intruders were escorted to the bridge. Spock tried to reconcile in his mind what he knew was possible and what he was seeing. His eyes hadn't failed him, it was indeed Kirk coming up, his expression shielded. Spock saw him shying away from the security officer walking behind him, and part of the Vulcan felt guilty for doing something that made him so uncomfortable. So he focused on the man who was walking with Kirk, leaving the human a moment to compose himself.

"Who are you?"

Glancing sideways and pointing at Kirk, the man gave a nervous twitch. "I'm with him."

"He's with me," Kirk agreed instantly. Spock continued staring down the other man. He was struggling to keep his emotions in check already, and Kirk seemed intent upon forcing an emotional display from him.

"We're traveling at warp speed. How did you manage to beam aboard this ship?" Spock demanded, looking from Kirk to this newcomer.

Neither of them put forth any useful information. To Spock, Kirk seemed rather argumentative and defensive, and given what he had recently been put through, the Vulcan found it fitting to his personality. The man hated being touched, hated being powerless, and would not accept a situation he could not control.

"What is it with you, Spock?" Kirk said loudly, cutting off Spock's search for logic. "Your planet was just destroyed, your mother murdered, and you're not even upset."

To the contrary, something inside Spock was screaming for release from his tight control. "If you're presuming that these experiences in any way impede my ability to command this ship, you are mistaken. "

Kirk waved wildly at the viewscreen, which only showed the stars passing by at high speeds. "Did you see his ship? Do you see what he did?"

"Yes, of course I did."

"So, are you afraid or aren't you?"

This had gone on long enough, and Spock was going to end it before it turned nasty. His control slipped slightly, and his eyebrows pulled together in minor anger. "I will not allow you to lecture me about the merits of emotion."

"Then why don't you stop me?" Kirk challenged. He took a step forward, up the single stair to where Spock was standing. This was not usual. Some dynamic of James Kirk had changed drastically and led to a confrontational being. Spock took a deep breath, disturbed by his close proximity.

"Step away from me, Mister-"

"What is it like not to feel anger or heartbreak or the need to stop at nothing to avenge the death of the woman who gave birth to you?" Kirk interrupted, taking another step forward. There was something in his eyes that Spock did not understand at all, something that was incongruous with his current stance. While his body spoke of confidence, anger, hostility, his eyes were full of fear, regret, and pain.

"Back away from me," Spock warned, giving the human a chance to run. His words, his threatening posture, were causing the shaky feeling Spock was having to increase. He didn't want to give into that baser, violent side of himself. Not with Kirk. _Especially_ not with Kirk.

But the human persisted. "You feel nothing! It must not even compute for you!" Taking one final step forward, Kirk put himself right in Spock's face and said the one thing that would make the poor, mentally distraught and emotionally damaged Vulcan to break. "You never loved her!"

With an animalistic cry, Spock lunged forward, his arms shooting out to grab at Kirk so he could beat the superior air of judgment from him. All thoughts of logic and control were forced aside as one backhand sent Kirk into the helm pit from the platform behind it. As the human rebounded, Spock's superior speed put him on top of him, his strong fists striking out repeatedly, pain at the words, his emotions from the pain he couldn't voice to anyone, and the knowledge that Kirk found him emotionally lacking left a hollow ache that he didn't want. And this violence was the only way he knew to deal with it.

Kirk landed on the navigation console, his eyes locked on Spock as the Vulcan finally wrapped his hands around Kirk's throat. He heard his father shout his name, as well as Uhura, but he was so focused on Kirk that he barely heard it.

The dull rhythm of Kirk's heart trying to force blood past Spock's grip counted the seconds, but all that was slowed down as Spock's mind processed the million thoughts that were passing between the two, locked as they were together. The Vulcan touch telepathy kicked in as Kirk's mind cried out the sounds his voice was trying to make. Panicked, pained sounds that had Spock slowly realizing what he was doing.

This man, who had been so brutally violated, who Spock had agreed to help to the best of his abilities, knew full well what Vulcans were capable of, and yet went through with this just to prove that Spock was not in full control of his faculties, was being slowly killed by the Vulcan. _And accepting it_. Spock's mind screamed at that. Kirk was slowly coming to accept his inevitable demise, thinking it was a better alternative than what happened years ago.

The anger left Spock as suddenly as it had erupted, creating a cold hole in his chest that was swiftly filled with sadness, despair. His hand fell away from Kirk's throat and he stared at the human for a moment. Although the shock and fear were still in those blue eyes, there was a great deal of relief. Spock was altogether certain he had lost this potential acquaintance, and that pained him, but it was infinitesimal compared to the pain he felt for the loss of his people and mother.

Kirk would never forgive him for this trespass, and Spock would never ask him to. He knew firsthand the pain he had inflicted on the human, and now had those memories burned into him. Wanting to be as far away from the rest as he could get, Spock had only one more duty to see to before he left the bridge.

Approaching Doctor McCoy, the new senior medical officer, Spock paused briefly. "I am no longer fit for duty. I hereby relinquish my command, based on the fact that I have been emotionally compromised. Please note the time and date in the ship's log."

With that, he was off, down the hall, and towards who knows where. His feet carried him as his mind took him someplace else.

Those memories were part of him now. He shared Kirk's...no, Jim's...burden. The knowledge of what happened that day and that justice was never delivered and Jim suffered so much for so long was angering. This was something he would have asked his mother about. She understood human psychology like no one Spock had ever met.

But now she was lost.

Finally allowing himself to feel the full brunt of the pain he was in, Spock found himself back at the transporter room, staring at the small circle where his mother should have appeared next to him. If she had been here, there would be comfort for the guilt at what Spock's hands had done. He could still remember the look on her face, the panic in her eyes as she realized what was happening, and the split second of unconditional love she gave him right before she fell.

His chest exploded into a symphony of pain. His planet, people, mother, Jim, Pike, everything was lost to him. And even Spock, the most logical member of the crew, could not shove his emotions aside long enough to do what needed to be done. He couldn't do it when all he wanted to do was fold up and scream out his pain.

It was unVulcan to give into emotions, and Spock finally knew what it was to resent his parentage. He always felt that his mother was the weaker species of the two, but now, seeing the shortcomings of his father's race, Spock resented being raised with Vulcan ideals. He didn't know if Jim's words were right, if he never loved his mother. Did he even know what it was?

He needed her like he needed air, and she wasn't there, would never be there again. He would never see her accepting smile, never feel her pull him into a loving embrace, would never hear her laugh at his dry humor. Never again could he come to her for advice, ask her the multitude of questions on human relationships.

The fight on the bridge gave the emotions the temporary release, but Vulcans felt so deeply that the well of pain seemed never ending. As Spock stood there, staring at the pad, his expression never changed, never betrayed his inner turmoil. On the inside, however, he grieved with an intensity a human would never have the chance to understand.

**A/N:** Sorry for the short siesta, guys. I went out of town for a weekend and found myself coming home with a rather nasty head cold. Here I am, weeks later, still with the same head cold. But the muse has returned, so onward and upward.


	10. Duty Roster

**A/N:** Ya'll don't need the battle scenes, skipping over those. I'll do a short gloss over, though, for those who haven't seen the movie. (And to those who haven't, for shame. Why the hell you reading this if you haven't seen the movie?!)

Kirk was on automatic pilot for most of the battle for Earth. It barely registered with him when he agreed to join Spock on the _Narada_. Both knew it was not out of friendship for the Vulcan, or loyalty for Earth. It was for a different reason altogether.

If the Earth was destroyed, Jim's last chance to escape the confined space of the _Enterprise_ would be lost forever. With the rest of the 'fleet unreachable, it fell to them to finish this, finish Nero.

To make it stranger, Uhura walked with them to the transport room and went right up to Spock, catching him in a liplock that had everyone else looking away. Jim's stomach was still in knots over that particular incident.

So the unlikely and awkward pair infiltrated the large Romulan ship. Spock took the smaller _Jellyfish_, and Jim made his way to where they were holding Pike. They were beamed back onto the Federation ship just in time as the black hole was formed, absorbing the _Narada_ into the high gravity singularity.

Without their warp cores, however, it would take days before one of the other ships reached them. On a slow start away from the area Scotty was now calling the Black Holada Quadrant, they cruised at an even pace, unbothered by anyone else.

Which left an ungodly amount of time to sit and think.

Jim lay sprawled out on the carpeted floor of his ready room, pondering the development that allowed him to stay in the captain's quarters. On his back and staring at the ceiling, he was half expecting someone to come in and demand he leave. But no one did, and no one would. He was a savior.

Or at least that's what they all said. Jim felt more like a coward. The first chance he got, he ran to a place he could lock himself in and avoid everyone. The level of confusion he was suffering from was mind numbing, and he knew for a fact that nothing apart from a complete mind reset would allow him normalcy in his life again.

His door chime went off, and Jim glanced towards the entry way, only mildly curious as to who it was. Either Scotty was bringing the star charts he had requested, or Bones was checking up on his injuries and medicinal reactions. Or Spock wanted his orders for the bridge crew.

He hadn't been in a room alone with anyone since this whole thing started, and he dreaded it now as his door opened to admit the one person he did _not_ want there. Spock walked in, his science blues freshly pressed, not a hair out of place.

After the bridge incident, Jim's guard was so high that he refused to let even the slightest hint of fear through his expression. If Spock thought he was afraid, he could take advantage of that. Use him. His mind flew to how Gary had taken advantage, using money. Spock could use fear.

"Uhura kick you out?" Jim asked sarcastically, not sitting up but putting both arms behind his head so he was propped at an angle to watch the Vulcan walked around the captain's ready room to the computer console and access something. He didn't trust Spock not to attack him again.

"No," was the quick remark. "My welcome with Nyota is hardly relevant to you."

"Oh, Nyota now, is it?" Spock was accessing some of the ship's logs and Jim kept his eyes locked on the man. He tried not to look nervous, but his foot started tapping the air in a rhythm.

"Again, that is irrelevant." Turning slowly to the area where Jim was laying, Spock's eyebrows pulled together in an expression Jim was quickly realizing meant confusion. Jim was doing something illogical. "Why are you on the floor?"

"My back hurts," Jim responded. "Jumping from one platform and catching yourself on another when you don't have Vulcanoid crazy reflexes is stupid."

Indeed, his ribs, spine, and hips all burned from the strain of the fight with Ayel. The pure agony his body was in made him almost seek out Bones and ask for something. Even a hypo of death would be preferable. But that would require standing and walking, which were not an option.

To his slight horror, Spock took a few steps closer. "I can help relieve some of that pain," he stated in a carefully even tone. Jim forced his body to move and scramble to his feet despite the flames that licked at his muscles.

"No, that's not necessary." Jim held both arms out in the 'see?' gesture. "I'm fine."

"I understand you wish to not have me near." The way he said it made Jim feel like the Vulcan thought he was a burden. "There are several techniques we use for relaxation."

Stepping behind the desk, Jim shook his head. "You keep your techniques to yourself!"

Spock must have picked up his panic and backed up a step. "I will be in the science labs should you need me." The Vulcan turned to leave but paused at the door, giving Jim one last undecipherable look before leaving.

Upon the door closing, Jim collapsed back onto the floor, laying flat again so he could once more stare at the ceiling and drive other, less pleasant thoughts from his mind. Curiosity, however, was an ever present demon, and his eyes traveled over to the computer where Spock had pulled up whatever information he was interested in. Jim tried to see from where he was on the floor, but his eyes weren't quite that good.

He rolled over and pushed himself up, walking slowly over to the computer console and bringing up the most recent inquiry. It was a duty roster for the ship. Of course Spock wanted the duty roster. It was actually the captain's job to sign off on these things. But Jim wasn't exactly the typical captain.

Hell, he wasn't the typical anything.

Scanning down the list, his eyes froze on one name. Jim's blood ran cold as he stared at that _name_. Of all the ships in the 'fleet, of all the stupid coincidences that could have happened to him, of all the crappy timing of things like this, Jim was the acting captain to the ship that held as its main navigator one Gary Mitchell.

Using his newly discovered override, Jim opened Mitchell's files, trying to ascertain as to why he wasn't on the bridge. Mitchell was apparently confined to quarters back on the starbase with lungworm. That gave Jim pause. He wasn't on the ship, which gave him a little time to figure out what he was going to do.

Jim paced around the desk, his mind moving in slow motion. He kept circling around one idea, and that was with Pike out of action, he could just hand the captaincy back to Spock. Make the Vulcan acting captain instead. Jim could ignore the words of the old Vulcan back on Delta Vega for the time being and do what was right for _this_ universe.

Turning on his heel, he headed out the door, wincing in pain as the muscles in his back screamed in rebellion. Jim walked a bit slower, but his focus always ahead of himself and trying not to look as if he were in pain.

-oOo-

Spock knew that going to Jim had been a long shot. When compared to the disaster that had been the last two days, he estimated only a two point eight six percent chance that Jim would forgive him and welcome him.

What he hadn't counted on was Jim's ability to completely forget the scene on the bridge.

It made sense in a way that the human would be able to push that aside so easily. Given the other things that he went through in past years, his mental strength against being abused had to be the strongest of anyone Spock knew.

The thought that Spock was responsible for at least one of those episodes of abuse made the Vulcan feel sick. He waited for the lift to open, needing to distract himself with work. The only place he could go and not be disturbed was his office in the science labs. The computers didn't have the same capabilities as those in the captain's ready room, which was why he went there in the first place. Now that he had the necessary files to do what needed to be done, he retreated back towards the science bay.

His first task was to solidify a working duty roster. Jim wouldn't have any idea how to do it, or that it needed to be done at all. With Pike's abrupt departure and the battle with the _Narada_, the roster was never updated to reflect the current crew aboard. Pike had insisted that Spock show Jim what he needed to know to be captain, but some things needed to be taken care of first. Like removing one Lieutenant Commander Mitchell, Gary, from active duty. Spock's open court martial of Mitchell for falsifying documents notwithstanding, since he was not aboard the ship, he would not receive commendation for the _Narada_ engagement.

No sooner had he finished removing Mitchell from the roster than did his door open. Spock looked up and saw Nyota standing in the open door, smiling as soon as she saw him. He internally sighed at her unmasked expression of interest. Had he not been in the middle of a mental and emotional breakdown and trying his hardest not to show too much on his face, the near assault on the platform would never had happened. He was certain she knew this and had taken advantage of the timing to push herself onto him.

In an effort not to seem cold and heartless, Spock hadn't pushed her away at first. But now she seemed under the belief that he returned her affections, which was simply not the truth. Intelligent as she was, Nyota simply wasn't his type.

The woman in question flounced (for lack of a better term) over to his desk and sat down on the edge, one hand landing on his shoulder as she looked down at him.

"You should be resting," Nyota said calmly. "The _captain_ is on temporary medical absence, and he wasn't the only one hurt."

He carefully moved so her hand would have no other choice but to fall away from him. "The captain has physical injuries that require his absence. Mine are mental and easily overcome."

Her lips pursed in a no nonsense manner. "You can't tell me his pain even compares to yours-"

"Lieutenant, I would suggest you refrain from insulting the captain at this point in time," Spock said as rationally as he could. "Not only did he risk his own life to save this universe, he also did so at no personal gain."

"No personal gain?!" Nyota practically screamed, standing quickly. "He has an entire ship. A ship that should rightfully be _yours_."

"Nothing is rightfully mine." Spock stood, leveling his gaze on the woman. "Although it is not yet public record and will never be, the debriefing with Captain Pike was quite educational. Nero knew of Kirk because in his history, Kirk was the captain of the _Enterprise_."

Pike had also told him that Nero claimed that Spock would suffer greatly if his _T'hy'la_ were Nero's prisoner in Pike's place. Although Pike had no clue what that meant, Spock had an instant understanding.

"That was in an alternate reality, Spock!" Nyota shouted at him. "That doesn't have to be this one! _You_ could be the captain. You _should_ be the captain!"

"No." Spock pointed to the door. "Leave. Lieutenant Uhura, whatever relationship you believe we have that allows you to speak so freely does not exist. My apologies if I led you on in any way."

Her face became smooth, not a sign of any of the emotion Spock knew would be there. She turned, her long hair flipping slightly, and glided from the room. She stopped outside the room, looking at someone to the left of the door.

"Hope you enjoyed the show," she said before pushing past the person, angrily muttering to herself.

Spock walked around the doorframe to see who was there and was a bit surprised to see a nervous looking Jim staring after Nyota as she strutted away. The captain was shaken as he turned to face Spock.

"Uh...can we talk?"

"Certainly," Spock said, stepping back into the office and raising one eyebrow at him, he waited for Jim to start talking.

The human entered slowly, cautiously. He tried to make it appear casual, but to Spock's keen eyes caught the slight shaking of his hands.

"You have to be the captain," Jim said in a rush, not taking a seat.

Spock stared at him for a moment. "I am sorry, I do not fully understand."

Jim looked squarely at him. They were almost the same height, so they were almost looking each other in the eye. "I don't know what I'm doing. I can't be a captain. You do it."

After he initially gave up his captaincy to Kirk, Spock never expected this. Jim was a great leader and belonged in the captain's chair. "I cannot. Regulation states that I cannot resume that position until I undergo a psychological evaluation to determine my emotional state. I am still emotionally compromised, therefore, you are still captain."

A lost look entered Jim's eyes. The man was giving into that overly vulnerable side again, something Spock did not want to see in him. "I can't do it. I don't want it. I never wanted it."

"I can help you," Spock said, walking around his desk and sitting. By placing the barrier between them and lowering himself, he could see Jim relaxing slightly. "I cannot take your place, however I can teach you what needs to be done. I have finished reviewing and finalizing the current duty roster, if you would like to see."

Transferring the information to a dataPADD, Spock passed it to Jim. If he could properly teach him the things he needed before they reached the Starbase to rendezvous with the 'fleet, then maybe what Pike had set up so perfectly would come to fruition.

And with the information Pike had given him, it would be up to Spock to see that if they were still _T'hy'la_ they could explore that relationship. But first it would take Jim's trust. Something Spock knew would take a lot of time, patience, and hard work.


	11. Knowledge Base

**A/N: **So with a broken leg and a promise to try again, here is the next installment. ^_^

With a desk in between them, Jim was sitting with the dataPADD resting on his knees and trying to listen to Spock as he droned on about paperwork and necessary forms. It was boring, to say the least, and Jim wished he could be anywhere else. After yawning for the fourth time, Spock looked up, his eyebrows pinching in the middle.

"Am I boring you, Mr. Kirk?"

The tone he said it made Jim perk up slightly. "Did...are you trying to be ironic?"

"Vulcans do not possess a sense of humor," Spock replied smoothly, glancing back at his own computer display. "There is one thing you must learn before truly taking over your duties. The ship is part of your responsibility and you must know-"

"The USS _Enterprise_, designation NCC-1701, is a Constitution-class ship," Jim said in a bored tone. "It has six phasers banks and photon torpedo launchers and is capable of warp 10, although with some risk to the crew and the ship. Deck One is the bridge and main control systems for the ship. Deck two-" Spock cut him off with a quick wave of his hand and Jim let out a quick sigh, shaking his head. "I helped build this ship, I should know the schematics."

"Logical," Spock agreed. "And what of Federation space, Starfleet regulations, and current objective of Starfleet vessels?"

"Why do I need to know all this?" Jim asked, sitting back in his seat so he could eye Spock over the desk. "It's not like they're actually going to let me remain captain."

One eyebrow rose at that statement and Spock looked thoughtful. "Indeed, you are correct. However, given the depth of your knowledge you could possibly test out of many of the required classes for command and, if you worked at it, finish what remained within the year."

"And then be assigned to some ship for a few years before I get a command post." It was the logical series of progression to Jim, and he set the PADD on the desk, glaring at it. "Look, just run the ship until we get back, tell Pike he is completely insane for assigning me to this post at all, and we'll just overlook the obvious breach in protocol."

"Protocol aside, I do believe that Captain Pike knew what he was doing," Spock stated. "No member of Starfleet would have been able to do what needed to be done to defeat Nero."

There was the slightest hitch in Spock's voice and that forced Jim to pause. The human could have kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. Of course Spock couldn't run the ship. He _was_ still emotionally compromised. His planet and people had been destroyed not two days prior, and despite Vulcan control, he was grieving.

"Spock, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here and tried to push this on you," Jim said, his tone soft. He couldn't believe what an idiot he was being. "Can you just copy the necessary forms for me to sign off on to the PADD so I can take them with me?"

The Vulcan nodded and slid the PADD over with one hand, confusion in his eyes as he did what Jim asked. "These do need to be completely by the end of Alpha shift tomorrow."

"I'll get them done," Jim assured him. "Maybe you should get some rest. We've all been running full out since this started, and Bones told me that if I didn't get some sleep he was going to hypo me."

"Let me show you to your quarters first," Spock said as he stood, handing Jim the PADD.

Despite Jim's protests, Spock walked with him towards the crew quarters and opened the door to the captain's room. They just happened to be two doors down from Spock's quarters, so the Vulcan could claim that showing him was not out of his way. Jim tried to argue that one, but Spock was having none of it.

Jim set the dataPADD holding all the necessary forms and information he had to go over before midday tomorrow on the small desk near the wall. Not that he really needed it. Spock could fill out all the necessary paperwork until they were back on good old terra firma and Jim could once again disappear into the human masses. Just because Pike had made him first officer for whatever reason didn't mean that he was locked onto the _Enterprise_. He was still technically a civilian with only honorary Starfleet status. But for Spock's sake he would stay and be captain until they reached Earth again and he could flee.

And Jim fully intended to run before he was confronted by Mitchell. He moved back to the separated sleeping area and looked down at the bed. A crazed laugh escaped him as he saw the sleeping arrangement. It was only a quarter of the total room space and was easily twice the size of his small room back on Earth. The bed could hold at least three people, and he was surprised to see that there was also a small dresser and a closet as well as another door. Walking to this one, Jim found a fully stocked washroom. All told, these quarters could be a small house.

Deciding that an early bedtime was in order, he walked into his washroom and eyed the shower. It had a timer on it for water usage, blinking a light blue '20'. He smiled and started stripping down, wanting to use the heat to sooth some of the soreness from his muscles. It was a luxury to use water on a starship, and he was going to use that to his full advantage.

Locating a towel and some soap in one of the wall cupboards, Jim was about to turn the water on when his borrowed communicator went off. He had to dig through his clothes before he found the small device and flipped it open.

"Kirk here," he answered as Spock had told him to do before.

"Jim, it's McCoy. Do you know where Commander Spock went?"

Jim's nose wrinkled slightly as he stared down at the box. "He should be in his quarters."

"Thanks."

The communicator went silent and Jim snapped it shut, setting it on the counter. He stood there for a moment, staring at it, as if it would go off the moment he turned his back. Slowly, he decided to turn on the water and step in, letting the perfectly controlled temperature of the water seep into his body. A low groan left him as he tried to relax despite the rather large bruises covering his body.

No sooner had he reached to pick up the soap than did his communicator go off again. With a growl, Jim switched the water off and stepped out, dripping all over the floor as he grabbed the comm off the counter and opened it.

"Kirk here," he answered again, some of his frustration leaking through.

"Captain, this is Lieutenant Uhura. Did you want me to forward Pike's reports straight away or did you want to look them over first?"

One hand rubbed across his eyes as he glared at the little communicator in his hands. "Go ahead and send them."

"Yes sir. Uhura out."

The device went quiet again and Jim closed it, setting it down and making a 'stop' gesture at it with both hands. He started backing away and made it all the way back into the shower to turn the water back on when it beeped again.

This time the device got ripped open by wet hands, the water of the shower still running, and Jim growled into it.

"Oh my God what?!"

"Sorry Jim," came Bones' voice again. "I tried Spock's comm, he didn't answer. Before I go there, you're certain he's in his quarters?"

"Yes!" Jim shut the lid and threw the communicator onto the counter, turning on his heel and stalking back into the shower. He made the decision to ignore the communicator from that point on until his shower was over.

Through the wash and rinse, the device went off six more times, each time completely ignored by the acting captain. Jim had one thing on his mind, and that was easing the constant ache that was settling in his sides. It still hurt to move, it hurt to breath, and Jim wanted that pain gone. Without outside intervention, it would take weeks of slow healing to reach a point where taking a walk no longer pained him.

But mostly on his mind was the mess with the _Enterprise_. He didn't want to stay here for more reasons than he could count, yet his single reason to stay far outweighed any of his seemingly petty problems. Starfleet, Spock, the entire galaxy for that matter, had lost something that could never be replaced. Jim had watched it happen. Had been there. And now he felt it deep in his heart that he wanted to help. As kind as he was to everyone, Jim had never felt this overwhelming urge to assist someone else get past anything. His mind was normally focused on saving himself.

For Spock, because of everything Spock had already done, Jim still felt he owed the Vulcan his support. His kindness. Never had anyone taken to Jim despite his attempting to drive them away. When Spock was willing to work with him after his accusations on the bridge, after everything that happened before, Jim knew that this was something he wanted to cultivate.

He stepped out of the shower when his twenty minutes was up and wrapped a towel around his waist, wiping the condensation from the mirror so he could look at himself. It came as no surprise the amount of bruising that was coloring his stomach, chest, sides, and back. His arms were mottled, and his throat had two distinct sets of hand prints. The worse was a straight, thick line across the bottom of his ribs, colored a dark purple. That was the result of a three story leap onto a platform and not quite making it. The bruise itself sat above two sets of fractured ribs that Jim had yet to have wrapped. Even his hand was still injured from the fight on the drill platform only days ago. It seemed like practically a lifetime since Jim had been on Earth, preparing to run from Starfleet. Now he was counting the injuries incurred in the line of duty to an intergalactic entity he had no real affiliation with aside from his parentage.

Feeling physically better but mentally lost, Jim set about drying slowly and gathering his clothes. He slowly moved to his room again, looking at the closet for a moment before pulling it open and searching for something to wear. Loose fitting pants and a long gold pajama tunic were the first things he found that looked remotely comfortable, so Jim slid them on and sat down on the bed, staring at the opposite divider wall.

For the tenth time since he arrived in his new quarters the communicator went off. Jim let out a small sigh and picked it up, flipping it open and taking a deep breath before he said anything.

"Kirk here."

"Captain." It was Spock this time. "I have received an urgent message from Starfleet, relayed through Lieutenant Uhura. It must be discussed at once."

Jim could have slammed his face into the wall as he heard that. "Fine. Where do you want to meet up?"

"Your quarters would be sufficient. I will be there in approximately nine minutes and thirty eight seconds."

"That's one hell of an approximation," Jim commented as he fought the smile that was threatening to spread on his face.

"By that statement you have added another nine seconds onto that approximation," Spock quipped back. Jim let out a laugh.

"And who said Vulcans didn't have a sense of humor?"

"I do not know," Spock replied. "Spock out."

Setting the device down again, Jim stared at the wall again for a moment before standing and moving around to the main section of the room. He was still sore, still felt like someone had tied him to a hoverbike and drove at top speeds over a cliff, but he had to keep going. Couldn't show weakness. Every action he took had to have meaning, and even if he struggled to look past everything else, he wouldn't let Spock face his problems alone. Not now that he understood.

All told, this wasn't the worst place he could be trapped. He could still be stuck on campus, where tensions were surely running high. Or back home, a place he never wanted to be again. At least here there seemed to be some semblance of control and balance. People weren't about to attack him from nowhere just because, and he could be properly cared for if someone did.

But the _Enterprise_ was still a prison to him, one with soft beds and larger walls. Yes he could feel for Spock, yes he could want to help, however over all of that was Jim's sense of self preservation. And his first rule was to not trap himself somewhere with no escape.

With that in mind, Jim steeled himself once more for his meeting with Spock as he took a seat at the desk and waited for the Vulcan to appear.


	12. Not the Captainy Type

**A/N:** With NaNoWriMo behind me for another year, and most of my doctor's appointments taken care of, I'm back to work and back to writing. Hopefully I won't do anything major to put this on hiatus again.

Spock stood out in the hall, two seconds early from his estimated time. Attributing the difference to his unusual eagerness to give Jim the news he had received, he rang the door chime for entry into the captain's quarters, folding both hands behind his back. If this went as Spock predicted (there was a nine point seven six percent chance that it went wrong), then the matter of Jim's captaincy would be settled. Since the doubt that command would see things differently was completely removed from Spock's mind, he could use his own logic to convince Jim to take his proposed course of action.

The door opened and Jim stood there, hair glistening with moisture, his face a bright pink of someone who had just showered. "May I enter?" Spock asked, attempting to remain polite despite his internal excitement.

"What?" Jim asked, momentarily confused. "Oh, yeah, come in." The human moved back to his desk, sliding the PADD away so he could sit more comfortably and look up at Spock. "So what was so important you had to get over here in ten minutes?"

"Nine minutes and forty five seconds," Spock corrected almost automatically.

"Where'd you gain the extra seconds?" Although Jim might not have the analytical mind that Spock possessed, he was smarter than everyone tended to give him credit for.

"A simple miscalculation regarding my stride length and speed." At Jim's snort of laughter, Spock lifted an eyebrow and took the chair across from him. "I fail to see how that is humorous."

Regaining some semblance of control, Jim waved him off. "Nothing." The captain shook his head and looked at his PADD, gathering himself, before looking at Spock again. "Now what was it you needed to tell me?"

"Starfleet command has sent communications to us regarding your appointment as captain," Spock started. "Given the current circumstances, the loss of so many starships, a federation planet, and over half the current cadets, Starfleet has agreed to allow you to remain captain given that you pass the necessary qualification exams for such a position." From the look on Jim's face, Spock knew he didn't like what he just heard. He appeared suddenly panicked, and Spock became confused. "This will save you years of classes you do not need."

The human stood slowly and started pacing behind the desk. "This...I...why would they do that?" he asked, his tone dripping with disbelief. "I don't want to be captain. I don't want to take any exams."

Spock paused in his speech. He wasn't fully prepared for Jim to not want to be captain. He had expected it, but now that the time was upon him, he was uncertain of how to go about proposing his ideas.

"It is logical that you pursue this course," he started. "Being a captain would utilize your abilities to-"

"You don't understand," the human interrupted him. "I really _don't_ want to be captain. At all. Especially not of this ship. Or of any ship, really."

His words cut into Spock's predesigned statements. The Vulcan froze momentarily before blinking twice and continuing on a different thread. "What is it you would like to do?" he asked cautiously. While he didn't want to betray Pike, he couldn't bring himself to force anything upon Jim, who had faced enough in his life already. There was more to it than Jim was saying, and Spock knew he had to dig deeper. How far Jim would allow him to go, though, would remain to be seen. He didn't want to push too hard and drive him away, that would undoubtedly cause Spock a great deal of pain trying to regain that trust.

Jim's eyes wouldn't meet Spock's. He was staring so intently at the PADD in front of him that Spock was certain he hadn't heard his question. Not until Jim's lips parted did Spock let out his breath.

"Invisible," was the quiet answer. "I don't want to be front and center. I never did. Why Pike made me do this...I just want to disappear again."

"No matter where you go, you will always be the hero of Earth," Spock said as gently as possible for a Vulcan. "The man who led us to victory will never be invisible."

If Spock had been able to predict the response from Jim, he would have never said such a thing. The human actually appeared pained. His eyes were closed, his face tense. While it occurred to Spock that this man would not want to be anywhere near the spotlight, he never figured that not being able to escape it would put him into this state.

"You are an amazing human, your abilities are unparalleled. I must confess that I do not fully understand your hesitation to receive that which would be the best path for your talents." Spock tried to decipher the expression on Jim's face, but it was impossible for someone with so little interaction with their own emotions. He let himself contemplate instead the best way to convince Jim of his own worth.

"Best path?" Jim wouldn't meet Spock's gaze, his nose wrinkling in an annoyed expression. "The best path for me is back on Earth, hiding, being forgotten."

It seemed as if Spock was going to be on the losing side of all this. He had not fully prepared himself for the inevitability of human irrationality. It was illogical to him to not accept this gift of a home, of a place to belong. With everything that had happened, Spock would give anything to feel the same, to feel a sense of welcome.

"Jim, I can attempt to understand that you do want to make the choice yourself, however it occurs to me that you do not fully appreciate what is being offered. There is so much rebuilding that must occur, and there are few who will be able to connect with my people in the way you can. This crew has been through something that will form a permanent bond with the remaining Vulcans."

Spock could pinpoint the moment the shift in thinking occurred in the human. Blue eyes flicked up to lock on Spock's face, his expression neutral. It wasn't hard to see what was going through his mind, not even for an emotional repressed Vulcan. There was guilt, a flash of pity, but then the steeled acceptance. But all that melted behind something that Spock was hoping wouldn't appear at all. Unavoidable sadness.

"No. The crew is fine, but me? I'm no captain to be leading them."

"You would excel at it, I am certain. I would continue to be a member of your crew if you accepted-"

He was cut off by Jim, who held up one hand. "I know you're just trying to do what Pike wants, but I'm not exactly the Starfleet type," Jim replied, setting the PADD aside so he could turn to head back towards the door. "Maybe it would be better if you left."

Swallowing his words, Spock headed for the door. He paused and looked over at Jim, his eyes a landing on the clenched hands. For once not thinking about what this action actually was, Spock reached one hand out and wrapped it around the clenched fingers. The panic was evident and before the Vulcan's common sense could regain control, a perfectly aimed fist collided with the side of his head and Spock didn't fight the blackness attempting to take over, hitting the deck with his eyes closed.

-oOo-

Leonard was laughing. He couldn't stop himself from laughing at this entire thing. It was simply ridiculous in a way that a perfectly sane man think he was losing his mind.

The hobgoblin...ahem..._Vulcan_...was currently laying in one of the biobeds, a screen between him and the rest of the room, after being hit by a panicking Kirk, who was sitting in the small side office nursing a broken hand. If he wasn't _already_ laughing, Leonard would have laughed.

"What the hell made you think that was a _good_ idea?" he asked Kirk once he got his laughter under control. "That green blooded bastard has a harder head than even you."

The face the younger man made was priceless. Leonard wished, and not for the first or last time, that he could take an image from his mind and record it for future generations. One of the great Captain James Kirk looking sheepish would have kept humans laughing for years to come.

"He touched me. I may have over reacted." The look on his face changed, and the good doctor sat down on a nearby chair, steepling his fingers as he watched Kirk carefully.

"May have?" Leonard asked. He shook his head. "Over reacting would have been shoving him away. You knocked out a Vulcan. I haven't seen that happen since...ever."

So maybe he shouldn't have laughed quite so hard, but at this point, sleep deprivation and severe stress was taking over. For everyone, things seemed a little more humorous. As a doctor, he knew the signs of stress induced fatigue, but there was nothing he could do for himself until the crew was taken care of. And that included the man he had voluntarily connected himself permanently to.

"You have my files," Kirk said quietly. "You know why...you know."

Instead of teasing again, Leonard just nodded. "Yes. I know. But I really think you need to calm down a bit on the victim thing. Spock's only trying to help you."

"I don't know why all you guys want to help anyway," Kirk added. "It's not like-"

"Not like what? We do actually like you, Jim." Leonard gave Kirk a small, indulgent smile. "Can't exactly say as to why, but the first time I met you, in the hospital, knowing full well that most people would never be able to walk away from the beating you took, but you just wouldn't lie down." He snorted with laughter that was quickly repressed. "You're tough as nails. But you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it."

Kirk actually appeared embarrassed. "I don't usually lie down," he said. "Did you get a hold of Spock before he...visited me? What was so urgent anyway?"

Clearing his throat at the change of topic, Leonard straightened in his chair. "I got some transmissions. Wanted to talk to him about it. I guess I'll have to discuss it with you first." Standing and walking to his desk, Leonard pulled out an official missive from Starfleet. "Once we get back to Earth, there's a few official things to happen. One would be your graduation. That's what I needed to talk to Spock about. I'm supposedly going to give you your xenobiology exam."

"My...what?" Kirk's hand seemed to be forgotten as he stared at Leonard as if the doctor had grown three extra heads. "I never agreed to this!"

"Pike set it up while we were still docked," Leonard explained. "I thought you knew. That's the only reason you were actually approved to be the first officer."

His still good hand ran over Kirk's face and Leonard tried not to think too hard about all of this. Pike had sworn him to both secrecy and cooperation regarding this matter in exchange for excusing the Kobayashi Maru fiasco. While he knew Kirk's past and knew what pushing him into this leadership role was doing to him, at the same time, Leonard also trusted Pike's intuition regarding the younger man.

"If it's any easier, we can do a quick practical and I can send in a grade based on that," he said, standing and nodding for Kirk to head out the door. "Since our resident Vulcan is currently on hand, why don't we do a practical on him."

Kirk actually sighed and rolled his eyes, but stood anyway and went to the curtain separating Spock from the rest of the medbay. "If I do this, if I actually go through with this, then my life...my choices...will be up to me again?"

"They've always been up to you." Checking to make sure Spock was still out, Leonard watched Kirk carefully. The man really didn't want to be here, but that wasn't all the doctor noticed. It wasn't just a reluctance, but also acceptance. Part of him knew where he belonged. Part of him was ready to take charge. But a greater portion of his being was to busy being a victim of his own circumstances.

"Look, Bones, I don't want to cause trouble. I know what Pike did for me. What you're doing. What Spock is trying to do. But I don't know if I can be a good captain. Not with my background. Once that gets out, no one is going to want me here."

"Jim, look at it this way," Leonard said slowly. "You either stay here, take what's being offered, and deal with everything as it comes, or you go back to anonymity, being no one, achieving nothing, and living a half life. Kid, I sure as hell don't want to see you go back there. You say you don't know if you can be a good captain, but what I know is that you've been great so far."

"Yeah, so far," Kirk mumbled, but he still took a deep breath and looked down at the Vulcan on the bed. "So, what exactly does this practical include?"

Leonard gave a half smile and nodded. "Okay, let's get started."


	13. New Opportunities

**A/N:** You guys inspire the crap out of me. Thank you for your support even when I wasn't updating every day. You're the reason I keep writing this even now. ^_^

Although he couldn't pinpoint the moment the paradigm shift happened, something revolutionary had occurred in Jim's brain involving Spock. He could blame Bones, he could blame Spock himself, but in all reality, the changed happened as he felt his bones snapping against the iron strength of the Vulcan who didn't attack back. If Jim knew anything about xenobiology, he knew that Vulcans didn't just black out or get knocked out. They had to accept the hit and then go down.

And despite his attack just days ago on the bridge, Spock didn't lay a hand on Jim that wasn't comforting or kind. It was amazing. And sitting there watching as McCoy administered the routine check on a now awake Spock, Jim knew that he wanted this Vulcan, this _man_, as his friend. He knew that for better or worse, he trusted Spock, and that was all it took to become friends.

"You'll have some bruising for a day or two, but that'll go away quick enough," Bones said, setting his scanner down on the nearby table. "Kid has one hell of a left hook."

"Indeed," came the response from Spock. The Vulcan's eyes went to where Jim was standing in the corner trying his best to remain inconspicuous. "It seems that I underestimated the captain's talents once again."

Bones let out a snort of laughter. "Haven't we all. We should get this practical underway, though."

Spock sat up slowly on the bed and looked over at Jim, an almost expectant look in his eyes as Bones picked up a PADD from the side table. The doctor sat in a nearby stool and gestured at Jim to step up to Spock. The captain gave a nod and took his step forward.

"First, basic anatomy. We'll start big and work our way inward and smaller. Name the major differences between Vulcan and human anatomy. One point for every correct answer."

Jim took a moment before he answered, his mind working back to the many books on Vulcan biology he had long ago memorized. It didn't take as long to finish the exam as he thought it would, and he was forced to get uncomfortably close to Spock at times, even to the point of touching, but when it ended, Spock seemed less affected than Jim, and the human captain forced himself to relax and feel less antsy.

Bones finished inputting the results into the PADD and looked up at Spock. "He passed his xenobiology exam. The rest is all yours."

"Thank you, doctor." The conspiratorial look passed between the two made Jim shift uneasily, but he had already agreed with McCoy that he would finish the tests and see where he stood. There was no real harm in it. Jim's greatest fear was failing or losing control of his life, but he was assured that neither prospect was likely. "I will be certain to inform you when he has completed them."

Spock went to stand, wavering slightly. Two set of arms shot out to steady the Vulcan, but Bones pulled back the moment he noticed Jim wrapping his hands around Spock's biceps.

"I'll leave you to bring him back to his quarters," the doctor said, slipping past. "_You_," he said, pointing at Jim, "are supposed to be on a twenty-four hour medical rest. And _you_," he added, turning to Spock, "are being put on a twelve hour medical rest. If I hear that either of you are doing anything but resting and recuperating, I'll knock both your asses out until we're back at the Earth space dock." He gave the both a menacing look. "Is that clear?"

Bones left only after he received a nod of agreement from both Jim and Spock. The Vulcan gave Jim a raised eyebrow, and Jim just rolled his eyes. With a silent agreement, and leaning slightly on one another, the two left the medbay and headed towards the officers' quarters, planning on following McCoy's advice.

They made it to Spock's room first, and he invited Jim in. "The doctor did say for you to bring me to my quarters," he stated clearly. "Therefore is it not more expedient to be certain that I am following his orders by accompanying me inside for a moment?"

"In light of your flawless logic, I must agree," Jim answered, a smile appearing on his features. He followed Spock into the room, pausing on the threshold for a moment to adjust to the lighting and warmer temperature. It wasn't stifling as one would think. More like slipping into a warm bath. Jim felt his body relaxing even against his will as he entered and the door slid shut behind him.

"If you would like to sit down..." Spock began, gesturing at the small couch that was situated against the wall. "I am going to indulge in a cup of tea, would you care to join?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Jim said as he moved to the couch. It was soft when he sat, and a little smile formed again. Despite the rough start, he could see himself enjoying time on the starship. Even with the strange relationship between himself and Spock, Jim knew they could be great friends. Old Spock had said they were friends, and now that Jim trusted Spock, he needed to trust old Spock's words too.

A cup was lowered into his line of sight, and Jim took it, his fingers brushing Spock's on accident. He heard the Vulcan inhale sharply. "Sorry," Jim muttered, pulling his hands away, the cup coming with them. He inhaled the vapors coming from the tea and felt the soothing effects almost instantly.

"Apologies are unnecessary," Spock said as he took the other seat after getting his own cup. "If you are truly staying on board the _Enterprise_, then it is logical that we become accustomed to physical contact. It is illogical to assume that we will never touch again."

Jim was taking a drink of his tea as Spock was speaking and winced at both the heat of the drink and the words. Spock was right, but it was hard to let go of the wish to not be touched. Even with all the contact they had made today alone, Jim found it almost impossible to think about anything past a simple brush of hands or a casual pat on the shoulder.

"It makes you uncomfortable to contemplate it," Spock stated matter-of-factly. Although his expression was neutral, there was a bit of disappointment in his eyes. "If it is indeed too much, we can discuss this at a later date."

"No," Jim said forcibly. "Bones is right. I can't keep being a victim." He froze, looking up at Spock. "I mean...you know, right? I don't have to explain it?"

"I do know," Spock responded. "Jim, I want you to know that for however long we are acquainted, I will fight to protect you from this point forward."

Although Spock had no idea just how much that statement meant to him, Jim found himself closing his eyes as the words sunk in. Searching for a safe haven had been his life for so long. It was one thing he had thought to never truly find. But with his decision to trust Spock and his words, he knew he had to trust that Spock would and could protect him.

"I..." The words didn't come and Jim took a deep breath, trying again. "I don't know how long I can stay on this ship, but...Spock...I'm more than happy that you're here with me."

He heard something being set on the table near the couch and Jim looked up to see that Spock's cup was sitting there. The Vulcan reached over and took Jim's cup as well, setting it alongside his own. Jim sat up a little, a nervousness flashing over him. But that only lasted until Spock turned to him, both hands resting on his own legs, palm up, and he sat there, waiting.

It took a moment for Jim to realize what was wanted of him. It was a hesitant movement that led to Jim's hands being placed on top of Spock's, palms down, fingers landing softly on Spock's wrists. The long fingers underneath moved against his palm, and Jim's legs tightened against the couch, boots connecting with the base board.

"It is always easier to start slow," Spock said in a low tone. Jim looked up from where their hands were connected. "Easier to give than to expect others to do so."

Seconds passed with their hands resting there. Spock didn't move, sat like a stone. Jim instinctively knew that it was to give him time to adjust. After everything they had been through, Spock was finally truly understanding him and allowing him to move at his own pace. That revelation crossed Jim's mind and he took a few deep breaths.

"Why are you doing this?" Jim asked, unable to quell the question. "No one else would give this much consideration."

The warm hands slowly withdrew from underneath Jim's as Spock sat back against the couch. "No one else has wronged you as greatly as I have."

The admission of guilt was not what Jim was expecting. "That's not entirely true, Spock."

"I am aware that one may have in your mind, however I do believe that given the circumstances of each transgression, mine was indeed more severe." He stood, walking away from the couch, his back to Jim. "When taking into account the danger I placed you in, I found it highly unlikely that you would accept me as a friend of even trusted acquaintance." The Vulcan slowly turned so he could meet Jim's eye. "And I assure you, I do wish to be your friend."

Jim looked down at his hands, unable to meet those brown eyes that were looking at him so hopefully. The last person claiming to want to be his friend had betrayed him so thoroughly that he spent the next few years attempting at invisibility. The son of the man who never believed in no win scenarios just giving up. And for what? It had all been in vain because Jim could never be invisible. He couldn't deny the side of him that was a leader.

Standing so he could be at eye level with Spock, Jim took two steps forward. "I do want a friend. A true friend. Someone who will not betray me or let me down. But I wouldn't expect that sort of perfection from anyone. Not even a Vulcan."

"Are you trying to say you do not wish to be friends?" Spock asked quickly.

"No," Jim replied, taking another step forward. "I am trying to say that I _do_ wish to try. But Spock...everything in my life has let me down in one way or another. I've never told anyone this, and I don't know why I'm telling you now, but there are so many choices I've made that I regret. And I don't want this to be one of them."

"I will promise to always endeavor to be worthy of your confidence in me," Spock said, the slightest twitch of his lips telling Jim that he was trying not to smile. "Thank you for this opportunity, Jim."

-oOo-

Admiral Richard Barnett sat at the head of the table, watching the academic board discuss the unusual circumstances that led to declaring James T. Kirk a war hero and assigning him as the captain of the _Enterprise_ despite his non-affliation with Starfleet. The most vociferous opponent of the decision was Admiral James Komack. That was no great surprise to Rick, who was expecting something of this sort.

"We might as well pull someone off the streets and make them a starship captain," Komack complained, shaking his head as he looked down the table at the others present. "And these exam results...I know you all trust the Vulcans, but Commander Spock is in Pike's pocket, and Pike _wants_ this..._child_ in the middle seat."

"Admiral Komack, Captain Pike has assured me that these test results are are true to Kirk's abilities and he was not prompted with any answers." Rick stated as clearly as he could. "If there is another reason to have convened us at this time, I would hear them now."

Komack stood and gathered his PADD, looking over the faces in front of him until his eyes reached Rick. There was an almost malice there that made the admiral uneasy, but he had known Komack for years. The man was sometimes fanatical, but never dangerous.

"One of our students, Lieutenant Gary Mitchell, has lodged a complaint against the acting captain of the _Enterprise_ for removing him from the active duty roster and thus rendering him ineligible for promotion." Komack hit a few buttons on his PADD and the official statement appeared in front of Rick. "He states that the acting captain has a previously held grudge against him and removed him for personal reasons. I put this to you as a body of respected admirals to see that justice is upheld in this case."

"What were those previous grievances, admiral?" Rick asked, looking up from the information in front of him. Reinstating Mitchell would mean that he was also eligible for the honors the entire crew of the _Enterprise_ was receiving despite his absence. It was one of those rules that could not be circumnavigated no matter what they decided. Rick was more of a mind to let the removal from active duty remain if there was just cause.

"A sealed file sitting within Starfleet's databanks reveals that before Lieutenant Mitchell enrolled in the academy, he was under charges of criminal sexual assault. Those charges were filed by one James T. Kirk and were later dismissed. Mitchell feels, and I agree with him, that Kirk will use those claims that were proven falsified to destroy Mitchell's credibility and career. This is, of course, against regulations." Komack paused for dramatic effect, and Rick resisted the urge to shake his head. "I suggest that Acting Captain-" This was said with a great deal of sarcasm. "Kirk be removed from the _Enterprise_ and Starfleet employment with a ban from all Starfleet positions or property."

"That backlash that will cause is astronomical," Admiral Gretchen Lui said, looking up at Komack. She was one of Kirk's staunchest supporters. "He is the one who came up with the plan to destroy Nero. You believe that this course of action to be wise?"

"It is better than letting this upstart take over a federation vessel and nearly destroy it." Komack turned to Rick, ignoring the rest of the council. "You surely must see the injustice here."

With a sigh, Rick was forced to make a decision. He had known George and Winona Kirk and knew that by his decision James would either have a great success or a greater failure. "We will hold a trial once the _Enterprise_ is docked," Rick said. "And should Mitchell's allegations prove false, he will be dismissed from Starfleet as you would have Kirk dismissed." He leveled his gaze on Komack. "For your sake, I would be hoping that Mitchell is correct. If he is not, I will personally put in to have you stripped of your rank. Is that clear?"

"As crystal," Komack said, gathering his items from the table. "If you will excuse me, I have a cadet to meet with."

There was something in Komack's voice that told Rick to watch him. He didn't like the idea of Komack having a step up on Pike or Kirk. Glancing around the table, he gave a final nod to the rest of the admiralty, dismissing them from the meeting. He would send Pike a message as quickly as he could and tell him to warn Kirk. This entire situation could get messy quick.


	14. Forward Files

**A/N:** On a mental high from watching the trailer for Star Trek into Darkness, which comes out on my birthday! I'm excited!

_Chris,_

_I thought that you should be the first to know, so I am forwarding this information to you. Share it with who you will._

_Lieutenant Mitchell is filing official charges against James Kirk for personal insult resulting from the dismissal from active duty. There will be a trial held upon your return to Earth. And a renewal of the original charges brought against Kirk of allegations of prostitution._

_I don't want to see the boy destroyed after he saved us all. I hope this information comes to you quickly enough to be useful._

_Rick_

-oOo-

_Rick,_

_Thanks for the heads up. I'm pretty sure this is going to tear the kid up. This is the last thing he really needs. Especially since he is having so much trouble adjusting. I'll tell Spock and we'll prepare._

_Chris_

-oOo-

_Spock,_

_I'm forwarding Admiral Barnett's message to me. Prepare him as best you can, get together what defenses you can, and contact me. I know this is going to be harder than just getting him on the ship and into Starfleet. If there is justice in the universe, Mitchell will die in his sleep before we're in range. But I doubt it._

_Pike_

-oOo-

_Captain,_

_It seems highly improbably that Lieutenant Mitchell will 'die in his sleep'. That being said, I am grateful that the admiral gave us forewarning before we reached Earth's orbit. I will inform Kirk of the circumstances and see that the proper preparations are under way3._

_Spock_

-oOo-

Spock was prepared for the worst. The chain of messages sent back and forth between himself and Pike had served nothing more than a highly useless exchange of information both already knew. He brought up the charges on his personal PADD and read through it, the emotions he was trying to bury coming to the forefront of his mind. Not even meditation before this visit could prepare him properly for facing a distraught Jim, and he knew it.

His finger touched the door chime to allow Kirk to know that someone was there to visit. But this was not a social call. Having woken up from his mandatory sleep to the news that Jim would be put through another trial and spent the better part of the next hour preparing himself to approach the human.

The door chime was almost unnaturally loud to Spock, whose Vulcan hearing was sensitive enough to hear everything happening inside the captain's quarters. Right down to the sound of a body hitting the floor hard enough to bruise just before the door opened revealing a half asleep shirtless Jim.

"Spock?" he said groggily, rubbing at his eyes. Moving his arms let Spock see the bruises that peppered his skin. Spock's eidetic memory allowed him to know with certainty which marks had come from which hit. Even the purpling bruises on Jim's arms from trying to catch himself on the platform after the space jump that Spock hadn't witnessed were clearly defined and the Vulcan knew where they had come from. "What do you need?"

Of course the memory of Vulcan was there, ever present and always hurting. He pushed it down repeatedly, and had succeeded when he was concentrating on staying on his feet and not letting anything show to Jim. But here, now, when he had visual proof of the damage done already to his captain, he didn't want one more thing to hurt Jim. Especially when he was feeling the loss of Spock's home planet just as keenly as any Vulcan on board.

"May I enter?" Spock asked, his tone even as ever. Those blue eyes snapped up to his own, the expression unmistakeably one of suspicion. "I am the unfortunate bearer of bad news."

Jim stepped back and gestured for Spock to enter, letting the door slide shut after the Vulcan was all the way through. "What's this about, Spock? Had to have been important for you to risk Bones' hypos."

For possibly the first time in his life, Spock was at a loss for words. He didn't know where to start, so he stood there for long enough to cause Jim to head back into the room and open one of the closets to pull out a sleep shirt.

"Come on, Spock. You're making me nervous. Just say it."

"Captain...Jim..." Spock turned to face him but couldn't look at his face. "Lieutenant Mitchell is filling official charges against you for removing him from the active duty roster."

Whatever Jim was expecting, it clearly wasn't this. His complexion washed out and Spock took a step forward for fear that he was about to pass out. Jim blinked a few times, staring at the hands held out to him.

"He's filling charges?" he asked, moving to a chair and sitting hard. Spock pulled a chair over and sat within touching distance. "I don't understand. I never touched the duty roster."

"That was me," Spock admitted. Part of him wanted to crawl into his bunk and let this wash over, never take any of the guilt in the matter. But the simple truth was that Spock was responsible for removing Mitchell from active duty, he was responsible for Pike bringing Jim on board. It was Spock's fault that Jim had been put in this position. "I removed him after we received our orders to return to Earth. I found it unfitting that he be given commendations he did not earn."

"I guess I should thank you for trying," Jim said, his voice sounding resigned. Spock shook his head, but Jim kept talking. "I keep thinking that I want to be anywhere else but here, and that's never been so strong as right now. I don't want to go through that again."

"Jim," Spock interrupted. "You will not be alone this time. You forget, I am a touch telepath. I have already seen into your mind and your memories. I will stand as a witness for you." He put a hand on Jim's knee and felt the human stiffen but not pull away. "And I will also put in an admission to being the one who changed the duty roster. You will not have to face Mitchell again."

"You don't have to do that." Standing and removing himself from Spock's touch, Jim started pacing in the small area around the desk. "I can defend myself."

"I believe the point is that you do not have to." It did occur to Spock that this was another irritating human predisposition of assuming that people didn't actually want to do what they offered. "It will not inconvenience me, on the contrary. It will save me time from having to have your record expunged and have you retested for your position as captain."

Jim paused in his pacing to turn in Spock's direction. "So that's it then," he said with a frown. "You really don't want to be captain."

"I, as well as everyone here, simply wants what is best for Starfleet. And the best for Starfleet is you." Spock stood and walked around the desk so he could be eye to eye with Jim. "My own personal goal is to not lose a friend. I do not have many of them, and I treasure each one."

"Aww," Jim said with mock sincerity. "You treasure me." He gave a snort of disbelief. There was a moment where nothing was said before the captain turned and moved to his desk so he could sit down on the edge. "This isn't a matter of false bravado, Spock. I'm not trying to prove to you that I can handle it on my own. I'm trying to say that I _have_ to handle this alone. It's not exactly something you can help me through."

"I may not be able to help you accept it unless you are willing, however I am certainly able to help you bring justice to one Gary Mitchell," Spock said as reassuringly as he could. "I should allow you to return to sleep. Permission to remain and finish my research while you rest? I can access files quicker from your terminal than my own."

"By all means," Jim said as he turned and headed back to the sleeping area. He rounded the short wall separating the bed from the rest of the room, but poked his head back out after a moment. "Just wake me up if anything else happens."

Spock listened to Jim climb back into bed as he started the console up and took a seat at the captain's desk. That he would even think about going back to sleep knowing that Spock would be in the same room awake was enough to make the Vulcan feel much better about how their relationship was progressing.

Starting by opening his messages again, Spock saw the latest one from Pike with the official reports attached from the hospital when Jim had been admitted for his rape kit. It took a moment of searching before Spock saw it. There was a double over the original, as if someone had gone in and changed things remotely. The official report was that Jim had refused testing. However anyone going into the hospital after such an incident didn't go to simply not be tested.

He had to dig for it, search his best, but he eventually found what he was actually looking for. The original files and the changes were hidden. And conclusively damning for Mitchell. The old files were untraceable, having most of what would give it away being wiped, but Spock did find the code that was used and saved it to his own files so he could use it and compare it to anything else from Mitchell he might find. It was obvious who was behind changing the files, at least to Spock. There was an extremely high (so high that Spock didn't want to calculate it) probability that the changes were orchestrated by Mitchell.

Spock was so focused on his work that the sound of someone padding across the room was lost to him until Jim leaned against the back of the chair to read over his shoulder.

"Where did you find those?" the exhausted human voice sounded in his ear. "The court said they were lost."

"I had to uncover it from layers of codes," he explained. "Someone went through great trouble to hide these records. It is troubling to see."

Jim reached around Spock to bring up the code used. The sudden stiffening of his body told Spock that something was wrong.

"Are these the codes?" Jim asked. Spock only nodded, to which Jim let out a quiet expletive. "Those are my damn codes!"

"They...are?"

"I've searched these files a hundred times," Jim said, standing from his folded position. "I searched for hackers, but I never looked for my own codes. I was looking for the wrong things, using the wrong things. Of course _my _codes wouldn't show up when I was using _the same_ codes to hack the damned thing!"

Spock turned in the seat so he could look at Jim with a raised brow. "Did you ever show those codes to anyone?"

Jim nodded once. "Mitchell."

To Spock's mind, that explained everything. "You should finish your rest. I will send a message to the necessary people and start the process of righting this wrong."

Although Spock fully expected Jim to turn and head back to bed, the human first did the last thing he expected. Jim put a hand voluntarily on Spock's and squeezed. "Thank you Spock. You don't know what this actually means to me."

"I have a fairly good idea," Spock responded, giving the human a nod. "Get some rest."

-oOo-

_Rick,_

_Some disturbing news has been uncovered by Spock. I'm forwarding the files to you, but I'm afraid that Gary Mitchell was up to a lot more than any of us suspected. I suggest he be put in immediate custody._

_As far as that goes, anyone working with Mitchell should be investigated. I don't like how much evidence is against him and that he got off without so much as a warning. There's more to this than we know._

_I'm sorry that this has been such a troublesome matter and hope to have it resolved before tomorrow. Will you be at the docking and ceremony to honor our returning heroes? I certainly hope so._

_Chris_

-oOo-

_Gary,_

_These have been transmitted thus far from Earth to the _Enterprise._ You need to prepare yourself or run. I'm not going to back a losing horse in this race._

_Find yourself a new backer or take care of this. I don't care how you do it, but do it quick. And preferably without a mess that I will have to clean up later._

_I may be your uncle, but that family connection is the only thing keeping me from letting this out._

_James_


	15. Breaking Steel

**A/N:** K/S Advent is finally over. Gotta love this time of year. I hadn't planned on this story going this long, but little surprises happen when you're sticking to the personalities you know and love. ^_^

The low thrum of a male voice in the other section of the room woke Jim from what had been a perfectly pleasant sleep. He had a moment of panic, but that settled when he remembered what was happening. Gary was pressing charges against him, and Spock was uncovering evidence of wrongdoing. He had slept with another person awake in the other room. And it wasn't just a light nap. Jim honestly slept, and dreamed, and was relaxed when he started regaining consciousness.

"Computer, input algorithm six into document two. Repeat with document eight and eleven."

"Computation complete."

"Begin transcribing. Commander Spock, USS _Enterprise_, NCC dash 1701, regarding case 2258 dash 3 dash 762, Mitchel versus Kirk, evidence to be presented in said hearing. See attachments 1 through 12. End transcription. Copy documents one through twelve to the transcription, send to Starfleet Judge Advocate General, label as urgent."

"Files sent."

Jim simply listened to Spock inputting data into the computer for a few moments before he sat up and pushed the blankets aside. There was going to be uncertainty in the upcoming days, but one thing for certain, Jim was starting to enjoy Spock's presence in his life. Although he wouldn't have thought it possible in such a short span of time, the Vulcan had grown incredibly important to him.

"Have you been up all night?" Jim asked as he stood, knowing that the other man's hearing was good enough to make out the words even through the short wall.

"I have," came the almost instant response. "My people require much less sleep than the average human to function properly."

Jim stood up, straightening the pajamas he had worn to bed until he was as suitable as possible to engage in conversation with a Vulcan. Spock's sense of propriety might not make itself known at all times, however Jim was fairly certain that his morning arousal would raise an eyebrow in the most literal sense. And he didn't much feel like showcasing that particular aspect of his anatomy at this point in time.

When Jim rounded the barrier between his bed and the living quarters, he did a half skip to stop himself from proceeding further. Spock was sitting at his desk, in the same position he had been in, but was wrapped in what could only be called a bed robe. It was sleek, dark shaded, and fit him perfectly. Clearly the Vulcan's aforementioned propriety didn't extend to wearing uncomfortable Starfleet uniforms while working off the clock in someone else's quarters.

"Did you...get any sleep?" Jim asked curiously, inching towards the bathroom door as he awaited a response. "I mean..._have_ you gotten any sleep since we left Earth?"

Spock's eyes lifted from his work and found Jim, who froze like a deer caught in headlights. The Vulcan's gaze was unwavering as he gave Jim a once over, sending a chill over the human. "I have meditated, and that is sufficient for my needs."

Letting out a huff of air, Jim nodded and slipped into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. The sight of Spock, proud, neat, orderly Spock, in anything other than a uniform had not left him unaffected. He forced himself to swallow as he crossed the small lavatory to relieve himself. It wasn't like he didn't remember that night he ran into Spock on the street, but this was so very different. The robe was something a little more intimate. Taking a deep breath and counting as he washed his hands, Jim steeled himself to go back out into his room.

Because Jim was afraid of his own attraction, he barely registered it happening. But now, there was no refuting the evidence of it. He could no longer lie to himself, and even though he was still scared, it was of Spock rejecting him rather than his own fears of the physical act. Even that he could move past eventually. If the Vulcan decided that Jim wasn't good enough to be around, and abandoned him like everyone else, the young human would be crushed beyond repair.

It would be surprising if Spock did leave after this, however. Especially to Jim. He had made his position clear. Spock stood by Jim in everything, even helping him get over the trauma that no one else was willing to admit existed. Unlocking the door, Jim left the bathroom and moved to the chair on the other side of the desk so he could sit down and watch Spock, folding his arms against his chest as he slouched in his seat.

"I have uncovered more evidence, Jim, if you wish to see." There was a slight tremor in Spock's voice that made Jim curious. "Although this particular piece even I have yet to look at."

"What is it?"

The Vulcan sat back in his seat and leveled his gaze at the captain, his face as neutral as it could be given the circumstances. "The video surveillance of the night in question. It was buried under layers of code."

"V-video?" Jim asked, stuttering as it fully hit him what Spock was saying. "I th-thought there weren't any cameras in that area."

"The entire shipyard was under surveillance," Spock answered, his fingers hitting something on the computer. "Did you wish to see it? I can understand if you do not."

"N-no, show me." Jim stood and walked around the desk, leaning over so he could see the screen past Spock's shoulder.

The video was grainy and had several lines running through it from unbroken code, but it was clear enough. Jim saw himself, years younger, working on the panels of the ship. It was unnerving, because he remembered that night to near perfection. Everything was right there, always in his mind.

He hadn't heard when Gary arrived. That was something he would later work on, knowing when people were around. The man walked down the hall, captured on the screen without any doubt as to who it could be. He stopped, and the figure that was Jim turned to greet him.

A beat or two, a conversation getting a little heated, and Jim swallowed as he saw himself turned and manhandled into the wall. He remembered how Mitchell had twisted his arm, forcing him to lean over a panel. He could still feel the fear as hands ripped his work coveralls free.

Jim made the smallest noise as he turned from the computer, unable to watch it any longer. He knew all too well what came next. His muscles tightened in anticipation as he knew what was on the screen.

A hand landed in between his shoulders and Jim hunched forward, away from the touch. But the hand didn't move and pushed him until he was turning. A pair of arms wrapped around him despite his instinct to strike out. The hand caught his fist, stopping it and bringing that hand back down as the other arm brought Jim flush against a warm body. His breathing increased, his heart rate increased, and he couldn't stop the tears that formed.

"Jim..." Spock whispered into his ear. "I am sorry. I knew it would upset you. I did not think it would cause this."

Although he was having a breakdown, Jim heard Spock's words and knew that the Vulcan was trying to comfort him. It meant more to the human than he could ever voice because when everything happened, no one was there for him. No one cared enough to make sure he was okay afterward. There was no therapy, there were no friends, there were no loving arms to just cry into.

Now he was coating the shoulder of Spock's robe with his tears. Jim wanted nothing more than to not suffer like he was. And when he felt something warm hit his own shoulder, he realized he wasn't the only one suffering.

-oOo-

Although it was true for the most part that Vulcans did not cry, Spock felt the moisture forming in the corners of his eyes as he stood. The moment Jim turned away from the screen, Spock stopped the replay and placed a careful hand against the human. He turned Jim and pulled him close, forced to catch the fist that came his way. Spock knew it was because the human was reliving that moment, but it would be worse if Jim also had the guilt later about hitting him again.

"Jim..." he started, uncertain of what he should say. How could he make this right again? This human, stronger than anything Spock had ever encountered, stronger than the very titanium that held the ship together, was finally breaking because he was finally facing what happened that night. "I am sorry," he admitted instead. "I knew it would upset you. I did not think it would cause this."

Spock never wanted to do this. He wanted Jim to face his past, yes, but not like this. It was more than Spock knew fully how to handle. But he knew how he would feel if someone forced him to rewatch his planet imploding. If someone forced him to relive appearing on that teleporter pad without his mother. The tears that came unbidden to his eyes fell and he knew that Jim wasn't the only one broken.

"Jim, he cannot hurt you again," Spock whispered. "I will not allow him to." Spock's arms tightened of their own accord, pulling the human closer. Not a full minute passed before Jim's arms wrapped around him as well. There was a slight trembling going through the body next to his. "I promise you, nothing will happen."

Jim nodded against his shoulder. "I know," came the muffled response. Spock could feel that he wanted to say something else, but no more words came and the Vulcan did not want to intrude on his inner thoughts. It broke his heart enough to see the outer turmoil without knowing exactly what the human was thinking.

"Come with me," Spock said, moving away and taking a hold of Jim's wrist, pulling him forward. Jim moved willingly enough, his bare feet stumbling slightly until he could walk with normal steps. Spock walked carefully backwards until he could round the little wall to the the bed. He could see the uncertainty in the blue eyes and Spock quickly held up a hand. "Trust me."

A small nod from Jim let Spock breath a little easier. It was hard not to just wrap him up and refuse to let go, but the man needed comfort, reassurance, he needed Spock. Sitting down, his hand pulled Jim forward and standing where his his knees were. "Join me please."

He was relieved again when Jim sat next to him. Spock turned slightly, holding out his arms to him. Jim blinked at him a few times before leaning forward and allowing himself to be folded into Spock's arms. "May I...meld with you?" he asked quietly, waiting for Jim to answer, holding him tightly as he did.

"What?" Jim asked, looking up at Spock. "Like...inside my head? Do you really want to be there?"

Spock inclined his head in affirmation. "Yes. I want to be with you in every way, comfort you in any way I can. I promised that he would not hurt you, and I promise that I will do anything I can to be certain that you are taken care of both physically and mentally."

Jim took a deep breath and released it again, and Spock felt him relaxing a little. "Okay. But...just...I don't want you getting my emotions and being overwhelmed."

"I will be careful," Spock said before he put his hand up, brushing gently against Jim's face, closing his eyes a bit as he felt the trust Jim was putting into him. He had to be gentle, had to be what Jim needed.

He didn't say the normal lines, instead let his heart lead him into the meld. Jim was open, receptive to his mind. It was as if they belonged like this, so strong was the link that wound about their minds, pulling them together. Spock felt the pain that was inside him reflected in the human. And the pain that was in Jim reached out to him. And right there, at the surface, was the memory.

_He was grunting above me, leaning over, holding me down. I can feel the stretching, ripping, bleeding. There is pain, it hurts in my back, hurts where he touches. I feel dirty. I feel sick. I think I threw up, I'm not sure. Everything hurts too much._

_I'm on the floor, bleeding, crying. He's looking at me with disdain. "Get up," he says. "You're not hurt." I can't answer him. There's too much pain._

Spock reeled slightly from the contact, knowing that the memory was of the rape. He stayed in the meld, but wrapped Jim up in his arms.

_He is gone. He will soon be punished. You should not think about him anymore. He is gone._

The gentle reassurance put directly into Jim's mind started pushing the memories aside. The emotions were strong, but Spock was stronger. Jim was stronger. The metal was bent, but not completely broken. With time and persistence, it would be reinforced.

_You are safe. You are cared for. You are safe. You are loved._

And Spock felt Jim's acceptance of this as the man leaned further into him, his eyes closed against the memories, and opened himself to what Spock was more than willing to give.

-oOo-

_Chris,_

_I have bad news. You should share this with your boys, too. We were trying to keep a lid on the case, but something slipped. We don't know who talked, but someone go a hold of the information that was being sent in and forwarded it to Mitchell. The kid ran. Took a private shuttle out of orbit before officials could stop him._

_I'm worried about where he is headed to, but I know you have your people under control. Please keep Kirk safe until his return. I know that you will do your best. I don't want Jim hurt._

_Rick_


	16. Distress Signal

**A/N:** I really didn't mean for this to go on this long, but everyone knows what happens when you want to touch on everything in a story. I think this is quickly turning into one of the longer fics I've written. And I'm extremely pleased with it so far.

Everyone in the mess hall was staring. Not that Jim could really blame them. If he were among their tables and saw two people who were supposed to not be friends gathering food and sitting off in the corner alone he would stare as well. But that's exactly what he and Spock did when they made it to the main cafeteria. Going over to the replicator, Spock put both their diet cards in, retrieved food, and carried both trays to the open table in the furthest portion of the room. Jim took his seat so he could see the room and Spock sat next to him.

"I am uncertain as to the exact location we are in, but I surmise we are half a day's travel from Starbase seven. We can stop and give Mr. Scott a chance to repair our engines fully." Spock picked up his spoon, looking at Jim with one eyebrow cocked. "We can be at the Earth station in less than twenty four hours."

"In that much of a hurry to be rid of me?" Jim asked, his tone a light teasing. Given their earlier intimacy, he wasn't surprised when Spock's other eyebrow went up as well.

"I simply want this case taken care of so we can get back to what should be happening."

And there was the answer Jim was expecting. The captain smiled into his bowl of soup, picking up his own spoon and stirring the bowl unnecessarily. "What should I do until then? I don't know about running the ship."

"I would suggest heading up to the bridge and sitting at least one shift." Spock's face relaxed into his normal neutral expression. "I can assist in whatever capacity you think best. I am still the science officer."

"That would probably be a good idea," Jim said, digging into his soup. It was easier now to picture himself as a captain. Whatever Spock had done inside his mind, he knew he was safe, he knew that the Vulcan would never let him down if it could be helped. He had finally found that friend he needed.

The meal passed uneventfully except for the stares and surprised glances their way. Spock walked with him back out of the mess hall, letting him lead the way to the lift. When they arrived on the bridge, most of the alpha crew were already in their places. Jim gave a quick smile to both Sulu and Chekov while trying to ignore the death glare he was receiving from Uhura. He leaped the small stair in one step, turning to take the middle seat as if he had been there all along.

"Report," he said easily, noting Spock's approving nod as the Vulcan passed over to his station.

"All systems reporting stable," came Sulu's reply. "Still at minimum speed." The pilot turned in his chair to look at Jim. "Engineer Scott has requested a stop off at Starbase seven for materials."

"Mr. Chekov, enter a course to the starbase."

"Yes keptin." The young Russian hit a few buttons on his console and nodded. "Course entered keptin. Approximate arrival time in six hours and fifty-three minutes."

"Lieutenant, please send a transmission to the starbase and let them know what materials Scotty is requesting."

Half expecting Uhura to throw an insult his way, Jim was pleasantly surprised by the civil response he got from her. "Yes captain. Sending transmission now."

Spock came over to stand behind him, leaning close for a moment. "You may want to contact engineering and Starfleet to let them both know the change in plans," he said quietly, so no one else overheard."

"Right," Jim said, feeling more certain of himself as the moments passed. "Lieutenant, also send a transmission to Starfleet to let them know our course change." He hesitated over the buttons on his chair until he found the one he wanted. "Bridge to engineering."

"Scotty here, captain," came the quick response. Jim glanced back at Spock again, who only nodded.

"We are planning a stop at Starbase seven. Please send a list of items needed for repairs to Lieutenant Uhura to be forwarded to the starbase."

"Will do, captain."

Jim let go of the button and sat back, relaxing now that he felt everything was running smoothly. No one stared at him, no one said anything about his being in the center seat. On the contrary, everyone acted as if this was normal, as if he was supposed to be there.

Something inside Jim knew it was too good to last, though. Somewhere in the universe, someone was plotting something that would lead to his demise. It might not even be on purpose, but Jim knew that something was going to go wrong. He just didn't know how soon. Only an hour passed before his calm was interrupted.

"Captain," came Uhura's voice from behind him. "I'm picking up a distress signal. A single manned shuttle, engines non-responsive. Request for immediate assistance."

"Are there any other ships within range?" Spock asked, stepping up to Uhura's console.

"We are the closest," she responded quickly, looking up at him.

"How long would it take to reach it?" Jim asked, standing so he could look over Chekov's shoulder where the young Russian was doing some quick rerouting.

"Less zan five minutes, keptin."

"Then reroute us there," Jim said, walking around the chair and over to where Spock was returning to his own station. "I don't know the protocol for this," he whispered to the Vulcan.

"Chekov, you have the conn," Spock said, gesturing for Jim to follow him to the lift. Only when they were safely enclosed did he say anything more. "We will bring the shuttle on board and check for any survivors. I would suggest we sent a security team on board-"

"No, I'm not going to put anyone else in danger," Jim protested.

"However," Spock continued as if he was never interrupted, "knowing your predisposition to doing everything on your own, my suggestion would change to simply the two of us sweeping the shuttle."

Jim gave a single nod and waited patiently for the lift to stop at the appropriate level. He found Spock settling in slightly behind him and it calmed his frayed nerves a bit to have the Vulcan at his back. Not even the looks he was receiving from some of those passing by were bothering him overly much. It was getting easier to just be the captain and let the rest of the crew deal with it.

When they reached the shuttle bay, a security team was already there waiting for them. "Wait here," Spock said, pointing at the floor where they were. "The captain and I will board first. Once the shuttle is cleared, you will be called on board for a sweep."

Stifling his smirk at Spock's tone, Jim waited for his first to finish addressing the security team. Then would come a tricorder sweep of the shuttle, and then they would search it for any survivors. Given how quickly they responded, he didn't see any reason for there to be injury on board. Taking a closer look at the shuttle itself, Jim recognized the design. It was a personal shuttle, meant for short distances only. To have come so far out, the pilot must have been desperate.

"Jim," Spock said, appearing at his elbow. "There is a single lifeform aboard." His dark eyes glanced over at the captain, watching Jim's facial expression.

He unholstered his phaser and set it on stun. "Then no reason to go about this carelessly," Jim said, returning Spock's gaze. "Phasers on stun."

There was the slightest quirk of Spock's eyebrow, telling Jim that he must have found something amusing in Jim's statement. They both made their way to the shuttle, and Spock opened the hatch before gesturing for Jim to proceed him inside.

On Jim's desk, back in his quarters, Spock's comunicator was going off. The sound stopped only to pick up again on the table where Jim's communicator sat. The urgent message that Pike was attempting to give them wouldn't reach them in time.

-oOo-

Having found a nice little place to conceal himself, Gary heard the hatch of his shuttle open. Curse his luck that he had run out of energy so close to his destination. Then even worse was that he had been picked up by a Starfleet vessel. The _Enterprise_, no less. This was a nightmare. If he was extremely lucky, they would send a security team on board and he could use one of them as a hostage to get a new shuttle to finish his trip.

His scanner, however, showed two people boarding the shuttle. That was fine by him. He could kill one and use the other. Maybe there was a chance of escaping this alive. From what he knew, the _captain_ was a soft heart. Gary smiled at that. Kirk would be easy to manipulate into giving him exactly what he wanted.

-oOo-

Spock didn't like this. He was stepping in behind Jim, and for all he knew this could be an enemy they were coming upon. And the human would be in the direct line of fire. If he was hit, there was a lower probability compared to himself that Jim would survive. Spock, however, resisted the urge to slide past his captain, knowing that it wouldn't be appreciated or approved of. So he kept in step behind Jim as they made their way cautiously into the shuttle.

Sleeping quarters on the left, those were cleared first. Then the right hand side had a basic lavatory and storage. Jim's phaser swept the lavatory as Spock slid past and towards the pilot's chair. Compared to the last vessel he had flown, this was technologically in their century, so he quickly ruled out another person invading from the future. Whoever had this vessel was definitely from their timeline. But that only made Spock slightly less concerned about the owner. There was someone on board, but why hadn't they shown themselves?

Once his sweep of the small command controls was done, Spock lifted his phaser to point at the ceiling as he turned to check on Jim. The sight that met his eyes, however, caused his arms to drop and him to point the phaser again. He knew that face, recognized it instantly. The phaser pressed to the back of Jim's head made something in Spock break as he saw the resignation in the captain's eyes.

"Drop it," Mitchell said, nodding his head at Spock's phaser. "Or I put a blast right through Jim's head."

"Let him go and I will not have to use force to retrieve him," Spock counter demanded, leveling his gaze at Mitchell, knowing the only way to handle this situation was to show that he wasn't intimidated by bullies.

Spock was forced to watch as one of Mitchell's arms snaked around Jim to where the phaser was loosely held in his hand. Jim closed his eyes tightly, swallowing convulsively. Slowly, Spock lowered his own phaser, but didn't let go of it even as Mitchell gained a second weapon and held it up, under where Jim's arm was, pointing it at Spock. The almost possessive way he was holding Jim was causing a guttural response in Spock, unfamiliar but not completely unwanted. The human was endangering something that Spock was working so hard to claim.

The human was as good as dead.

"You are in no position to be making demands on me," Mitchell said, his self assured smile pressing against the back of Jim's neck. The captain moved to pull away, but Mitchell's arm was pressed too tightly to allow much movement. "It doesn't matter what you do at this point. Good old Jim here is too petrified to really do anything other than what I allow."

Jim's eyes snapped open at that, his blue gaze locking with Spock's. The Vulcan blinked once, his hand tightening around his phaser as he watched the facial expressions play across Jim's face. He knew that look. He had seen it before. That defiant look that meant Jim was not about to back down. It was fight or die time for him, and Spock gave him the smallest of nods.

At that cue, all hell broke loose in the small shuttle. Jim's arm came up and his elbow collided forcefully with the side of Mitchell's head. Spock heard the audible sound of his cheekbone snapping under the pressure. As one of the phaser's hit the deck so that Mitchell could bring a hand up to his face, Jim spun and delivered another quick blow to Mitchell's mid section with his knee.

A quick kick sent the phasers in Spock's direction, and the Vulcan didn't hesitate to scoop them up while keeping his own leveled on Mitchell. Jim backed up, away from his assailant, looking over at Spock, his expression neutral. "I think it's time to call in the security team."

"I could not agree more," Spock said as he reached for his communicator only to find it missing. He remembered where it was and upon inspecting Jim, realized that neither of them had been fully prepared this morning. "Go and call them on board. I will stay here."

Jim gave a single nod and stepped around Mitchell's curled up form, ignoring the man he had previously been terrified of. Spock would have smiled, but he was busy glaring hate at Mitchell. He knew that this incident had changed Jim in some way, and he couldn't wait to find out what that way was.


	17. Emotion in His Eyes

**A/N:** Thank you guys for all the positive feedback. You don't know how happy that makes me.

Jim was just reaching the security team when he heard it. Phaser fire. There was no mistaking that sound, even coming from within a metal shell. Without thinking, he turned and rushed back inside, his mind trying to register why there would be shots fired after Mitchell was subdued.

Something caught the tip of Jim's boot and sent him to the deck. The narrowed eyes of Mitchell were staring him down, a phaser pointed at him. The feeling of victory from just moments before evaporated. "You really think I'm going to just allow you to arrest me?" Mitchell hissed at Jim, pulling himself up painfully from the floor. He gestured for Jim to stand as well, and the weaponless captain did so slowly. "That Vulcan should have left it all alone and wouldn't have had to shoot him."

Something inside Jim's stomach went cold. Spock had been shot? He did a quick look at the phaser and saw the blue that meant it was on stun. But had it been like that before? Feeling nauseous, Jim reached his full height, carefully keeping his hands out so that Mitchell could see that he was unarmed.

"You won't get away," he told Mitchell slowly. "The team is already heading in. You'll be killed. Even if you do manage to get this shuttle out of here, you-"

"Shut up!" Mitchell shouted into his ear, hitting Jim across the face with the phaser in his hand. A bruise would undoubtedly rise up along his cheek. But it would match the rest of the dark splotches on his body. "You really think it'll happen that way? There are rules, Jim. Regulations. Even you have to know a few of them."

Choosing to stay silent, Jim blinked away the tears from his eyes that rose as a result of the blow to the face. His eyes narrowed a little on Mitchell, never leaving the man. He wouldn't be forced this time. He would fight back no matter what the cost. And he needed to find Spock and make sure that the Vulcan was still alive.

"Come on," Mitchell said, pushing Jim forward. "You can keep me company while I blast a hole in your ship."

Jim had no choice but to move forward to where the small helm was. His eyes quickly scanned and found Spock laying prone underneath the rear console, apparently having either rolled there or been kicked. The Vulcan's eyes were closed, and Jim couldn't see if he was breathing or not. Although his first instinct was to check, he couldn't very well do that with a phaser pointed at him.

Mitchell slid into the pilot's chair and pressed the hatch button, closing and sealing it. A part of Jim wondered where the security team was. But at the same time, he didn't want anyone else in this man's line of fire. Standing once more, Mitchell smiled at Jim suddenly and gestured at the chair.

"You drive," he said. "I want to watch you do it. Kill everyone in this bay. Nothing like a hull breach and being sucked into the vacuum."

That image made Jim close his eyes against the memory of all those bodies floating in the space debris left over Vulcan before the planet had been destroyed. Mitchell was no better than Nero, but Jim hadn't been personally frightened of Nero. The Romulan was an easier enemy to defeat. Jim just needed to focus. With both enemies, it was personal.

"No. I won't. And nothing you do can make me." Jim shook his head defiantly, opening his eyes to level a gaze at Mitchell. He could finally see it. How tired the man was. How different he was from those years ago when Jim knew him. "So many have already died, Gary. Do you really want more on your conscience?"

Mitchell shook his head. "It won't be on my conscience," he stated, his voice raising in register. Jim could see that he was becoming agitated that he hadn't fallen in line. But he was a starship captain. He was stronger than last time they had tangled.

"It will, though!" Jim insisted. "It will, and you'll have to live with those deaths. Deaths of people you worked with! People you _knew_! Do you really want them to die knowing this is all your fault?"

"This is not _my_ fault!" Mitchell practically screamed at him. "It's you! You're the one who is causing all of this! If you hadn't removed me from the duty roster, if you hadn't pressed charges, if you hadn't-"

"I didn't do any of those things," Jim said calmly. "That was all your own fault."

Mitchell's fist shot out and caught Jim in the stomach. His previous injuries let themselves be known and Jim fell backwards, out into the little walkway. Curled up, he tried to force air into his lungs, but it hurt too much. Everything hurt.

A kick landed on his back, and Jim arched, only to have another one land on his ribs. Mitchell was standing over him, a murderous look on his face as he glared down at Jim. In too much pain to really protect himself, Jim could only lay there as whatever went through Mitchell's mind was acted upon.

The man was just about to reach down and grab him when a hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him forcefully backwards. Jim's eyes traveled to the body of Spock just as the Vulcan threw Mitchell bodily into the pilot's chair, anger and vengeance in his eyes. Having seen the Vulcan angry before, Jim knew what was coming, but he didn't have the power to stand or speak, didn't have the ability to stop Spock before he became dangerous.

The Vulcan's forearm landed a solid blow against Mitchell's sternum, and although the human tried to fight back, he was no match for Vulcan superior strength. Spock's hand landed around Mitchell's throat and lifted him, pressing him against one of the upper consoles as he choked the life from the man who had been about to kill Jim.

Finally finding the strength to stand, Jim pushed up from the deck and stumbled forward, nearly pitching headfirst back to the floor. Catching himself on the wall, he took another step forward and put a hand on Spock's arm, using it to stand his full height and look at the Vulcan's eyes.

"Spock, stop," he wheezed. "Spock, don't do this."

Brown eyes glanced over at Jim, and Spock growled low in his throat. There was pain in his eyes, anger, but mostly worry. Spock was worried. His arm slowly loosened under Jim's fingers, and Mitchell slid down the console to the floor as the Vulcan released him. Even with him gasping for air, Jim knew that Mitchell was done. The fight was out of his eyes, and he was submitting.

"Jim," Spock said, turning fully to him. With the emotions raging over the Vulcan's face, Jim was about to take a hesitant step back so he didn't become the next target, but Spock's hand came up to touch his cheek. Shaking fingers stroked gently along the bruised flesh. He said something quietly, almost reverently, in Vulcan a moment before he swooped down and placed his lips solidly against Jim's.

Although neither deepened the kiss, it was passionate, pure, all love, emotion, and devotion being poured into the other. Spock wrapped his arm around Jim, pulling him close, their bodies pressing together. In all his years of self enforced celibacy, Jim had never once imagined anything could be so intimate as this. His brain forgot that Mitchell was on the floor, that they were in a stolen shuttle, that he had just witnessed Spock nearly kill someone to defend him. His mind was all on the solid body holding him safe, the hands soothing his hurts, the lips erasing his past.

When Spock pulled back to let Jim breath again, he didn't pull away. Pressing his forehead against the captain's, Spock let out a shaky breath, the hand on Jim's face falling to his shoulder before running down his arm to his hand. Jim felt two fingers entwine with his, dance over the skin and caress in an almost equally intimate way as the kiss from seconds ago. And just as suddenly as it started, it stopped and Spock released Jim, making sure that he was still there to support his captain's body as he stepped out and into the walkway leading to the main hatch.

Jim barely registered when the hatch was opened and Spock helped him off the ship as security swarmed on board. Nothing else mattered as the Vulcan half carried him to the lift, pressing the button to take them to another deck. Even when he was taken to the medical bay and sat down, he didn't notice the hypo stuck into his neck because he was paying more attention to the fingers tracing patterns on the back of his hand. As everything slowly faded into black, the last thing he heard was a cool voice whispering in his ear.

"_Taluhk nash-veh k'dular_."

-oOo-

Spock refused to leave Jim's side throughout the next day. Although McCoy kept telling him he needed to sleep, Spock shook his head slowly and just sat there, watching the bioscanners, reading from his PADD, or just watching Jim's face as the human slept on in the medically induced coma that McCoy insisted was necessary to see to the internal injuries.

There were things that he needed to think about. Such as what he was going to do now that he knew a relationship with Jim was possible. Spock still needed to help his people. Still needed to assist his father in any way he could. But now there was one huge obstacle in his way in the form of a beautiful mind that he loved with all his being.

He didn't stir until another chair was set next to his and a Vulcan elder sat down. Spock looked up and blinked, both knowing and not knowing the face before him. The old Vulcan gave Spock an appraising look before giving him a small nod.

"You are aware that the ship has docked and is currently undergoing repairs that you could assist with."

"I am," Spock replied quietly.

"Yet you refuse to leave his side," the old one said. "May I inquire as to why?"

Spock blinked and looked back at Jim, uncertain as to why this elder was asking such a question. "I hardly see the relevance of the answer."

"Have you spoken to our father about these developments?" the elder asked. Spock turned back to him and stared for a moment before realization dawned. He knew that face because it was his. He didn't know the face because he was not yet at that age. This was him, from a future that was now forever denied to him.

"No, I have not," Spock answered slowly, his eyes not leaving his older self's face. "It is not needed at this juncture." Although Spock knew that he would eventually have to tell his father why he could not bond with a Vulcan woman in order to assist in the repopulation of his species, it wasn't necessary right away. "Why have you come here now?"

His older self let out an audible breath and turned to watch the bioscanner. "There are so few Vulcans left, we cannot afford to ignore each other," he said quietly.

"Then why did you send Kirk aboard, when you alone could have explained the truth?" The question was out before Spock fully realized what he was saying. He would never regret what happened between himself and Jim, but he needed to know.

"Because, you needed each other," the Vulcan answered. His eyes met Spock's and he gave him a knowing look. "I could not deprive you of the revelation of all that you could accomplish together. Of a friendship, that would define you both, in ways you cannot yet realize."

Knowing Jim's mind as he did, Spock had another question on the tip of his tongue. "How did you persuade him to keep your secret?"

A sound that in any other person would have been a laugh escaped elder Spock as he settled back in his chair. "He inferred that universe-ending paradoxes would ensue should he break his promise."

"You lied."

"Oh, I...I implied."

That answer gave Spock pause. He had never considered himself a master of subtlety. But maybe there was hope if this Spock could do it. "A gamble?" he asked, looking over at his older self.

"An act of faith," the old one corrected, his face relaxing into an almost smile. "One I hope that you will repeat in the future at Starfleet."

Spock let out a sigh. He had already received a message from his father about that particular issue. "In the face of extinction, it is only logical I resign my Starfleet commission and help rebuild our race."

"And yet, you can be in two places at once," his old self said. "I urge you to remain in Starfleet. I have already located a suitable planet on which to establish a Vulcan colony. Spock, in this case, do yourself a favor. Put aside logic. Do what feels right."

"What feels right is not often what is logical," Spock said, tearing his eyes from his older counterpart and looking back at Jim. "What should I tell father?"

"Let me take care of that formality for you." His older self stood slowly from the chair, putting one hand on the biobed and gazing up at the young face in front of him. "You have larger issues to handle. Have you told him?"

"I will when he awakens," Spock said, knowing full well what the other Spock was referring to. "Did you and your Jim...were you..."

"Yes, we were. And I would wish nothing else for you and yours." The older Spock looked over at him with kindness in his eyes. Raising his hand in the ta'al, he started away. "Since my customary farewell would appear oddly self-serving, I shall simply say good luck."

Spock returned the gesture, watching his older self as he left. If it was true that in the other reality Jim and himself were truly together, bonded, and happy, he would make certain that here, in this one, the same happened. Leaning back in his chair, he let out a breath and watched Jim sleep on. It was an interesting thought, that he could be in two places, and solved every dilemma in his mind.


	18. Nervous Homecoming

**A/N:** You guys are awesome! Thank you for the favorites and reviews! General warning, this chapter may contain some man on man smexiness. If you don't like it, then please wait for the next chapter where such a warning does not exist. (That's right, there will be another chapter of smut...you'll just have to be patient.)

They were back on Earth before Bones released Jim from his care. His parting words were that he didn't want to see the sickening display of lovey doviness from the green blooded hobgoblin another second. Jim could only laugh as Spock led the way from the medical center and towards the car waiting for them. The Vulcan refrained from saying anything, but the look in his eyes clearly said that he would turn around and inform Bones that Vulcans did not create sickening displays of love.

Which would cause Jim to laugh himself into another cracked rib.

Ever since they beamed back to Earth (Spock had refused to take the shuttle, wanting to bring Jim straight to the hospital), they hadn't been apart except when Spock was being seen to by the resident Vulcan healers. So much of their culture was hidden, and Jim waited patiently for Spock to return and explain whatever procedure he had to undergo.

It was now common belief that to preserve the Vulcan society, some secrets of their biology had to be disclosed. And Jim sat patiently through Spock's long winded explanation of betrothal bonds, parental bonds, and Vulcan touch telepathy. The remaining Vulcans were all suffering from broken bonds, and Spock was no exception. That news had caused Jim to become a little more protective of his Vulcan, and when he asked how that could be fixed, Spock's answer left him deep in thought.

Sitting in the car driving towards the Vulcan embassy gave Jim precious little time to mentally prepare himself for what he was going to do. Spock had given him so much of himself and now he wanted to return that favor. Return that undying loyalty and devotion. This was something he had to do in order to get himself past the single roadblock that remained in his life.

They pulled up to the familiar gates of the embassy and were immediately let through. Spock seemed less than excited as he waited, his fingers resting on his knees. His own nervous energy made Jim see everything as too quiet, too calm. He drummed his own fingers in a rhythm on the seat next to him. This drew the Vulcan's eyes to him.

"You are nervous," he stated calmly, blinking at Jim. "There is no one here you do not already know."

"I'm not nervous about meeting anyone," Jim admitted. Which was the truth, as far as he could tell. Spock didn't need to know right away what Jim had planned for later. Talking about it would make him feel much worse than just going through with it.

"The trial will be simple as well," Spock said, reaching out a hand to put over Jim's, stilling the human's fingers. "The evidence is already in, you will have first hand testimony, and he was captured and confessed. There will be no questions as to the verdict."

Jim couldn't help the small smile that formed now as Spock tried to say something that would relax him. Although the delivery was still pretty much emotionless, it let him know that the Vulcan cared. Turning his hand so he could grip Spock's, Jim nodded and waited patiently for the car to stop in front of the large house he would be staying in for the duration of his time on Earth.

The first surprise of this house came when Spock opened his door before Jim could even gather himself to look towards his own. The Vulcan moved all the way around the car and opened Jim's door for him as well. The captain gave a small smile as he stood from the car. Looking up, he saw two Vulcans already at the door. Cave-Spock and Spock's father. Jim took a few steps towards the door, but before he even made it to the three steps leading up, Spock was at his side, his hand curling almost possessively under Jim's arm as they walked. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling, but it was unexpected. Especially in front of Serek.

"Father," Spock said in greeting. "I hope to find you well."

"Your quarters have been readied should you wish to retire," Sarek said with a small nod in Spock's direction. "Your captain's items are in the adjacent room, should he chose to stay there. An evening meal is being prepared."

There was no thank you as Jim was ushered into the house. The temperature inside was a little warm for his comfort, but he knew that this was Vulcan norm. Inside the house was painted in a dull sand color, and Jim could appreciate how close the builders had attempted to assimilate the planet into the final design. Even the furniture wasn't Earth made.

Spock seemed to be deadset on arriving at his room, however, and didn't give Jim a lot of time to look around before he found himself inside a room that very much resembled a small house. In the center of the room was a large bed, easily big enough for five people. A sitting area was in one corner next to the door, meticulously kept bookshelves lined the opposite wall. There was a desk, everything neat and in place, as well as a wardrobe and dresser. Jim blinked a few times before he moved to one of the richly colored couches, slowly lowering himself to it as he looked up at Spock.

"Are you okay?" he asked the Vulcan, giving him a very Spock-like raised eyebrow. If he didn't know any better, Spock looked about as nervous as Jim felt. It took a moment of Spock gazing back at him before Jim realized something. "Oh...you saw that?"

"I am a touch telepath, Jim. And your thoughts were not well guarded."

Jim stood up again and took a step around the couch, back towards the door. "Look...it was...I...just a thought...of course we don't have to. I just want to..."

A pair of fingers came up unseen to meet with Jim's lips. He looked up at Spock, now right in front of him, and blinked a few times.

"I am well aware of how nervous even thinking about this makes you," Spock said. "I was picking up on it and it...worried me." His brows furrowed as he struggled to find the right words. Jim's heart thudded in his chest as he stood there with the fingers still against his lips. "You are aware that I would never force you to do something you do not wish to, correct?"

The fingers fell away as Jim gave a weak nod. "I am. But...Spock...you already told me how this bonding thing works..."

The look that came across Spock's face then was almost amused. "Jim, I know where your worry sits, and let me clear one thing up. I neither expect nor need you to be the receptive partner in this." His hand came up, first two fingers extended. Jim smiled at this and brought his own hand up in the same position, his fingers slowly meeting Spock's. "The simple knowledge that you would be willing is more than enough to cement my belief that I am more than capable of being the, as the humans term it, bottom."

Jim almost laughed in relief. He should have known that Spock would offer this. And it didn't really come as a surprise. What did surprise him was when Spock's fingers closed around his own, and the Vulcan took a step backwards, towards the bed. Jim almost stumbled as he was forced to move, but Spock wasn't going to let him fall.

"But...isn't it too soon? Won't someone..." His question died when Spock let go of his hand and moved over to the door's lock, initiating the resident locking code. He turned back to Jim and walked over, putting a hand on the human's shoulder.

"We can wait, however, I do suggest we do this before your trial." At Jim's confused expression, Spock took a moment to explain. "Then this would not be tried under Starfleet or human laws, as you will be an official citizen of Vulcan and fully under Vulcan protection." Something inside Jim's heart flared to life. "The human statute of limitations makes some evidence non-admissible. Vulcan's have no such laws."

Blue eyes sparked in both amusement and aggravation. "You sneaky Vulcan! Were you planning on this happening and weren't going to tell me?!"

"I was irrationally hoping you would bring up the suggestion." Spock met Jim's gaze and brought up his hand again. "Or that you would agree to my advances. It may seem soon to you to enter into such an arrangement, however, as I would point out, Vulcan biology points us towards the partner that is often the most compatible mentally and physically."

"Humans have this little thing called love at first sight," Jim said almost conversationally, his hand meeting Spock's again. "Love is important. Or it is for me."

He watched Spock's face carefully, searching the usually bland expression for any signs that what he was trying to say was making its way through to Spock's mind. Sometimes subtlety wasn't the best course of action. Certainly with some Vulcans a person had to hit them over the head with a point. But there was an instant nod of acquiescence from Spock.

"Love is an irrational emotion, often fickle, granting itself to those unworthy of such devotion." Before Jim's face could fall, Spock continued. "However, it is also strong, and for those who can properly judge when the right time is to feel such an emotion, can lead them to an exceptional individual. One with courage and strength and intelligence."

"Spock, you can just say it."

Taking a deep breath, Spock nodded and met Jim's gaze. "I love you, Jim. As illogical as it is, that emotion runs very strong."

Jim smiled. He couldn't help it. Surging forward, he placed a kiss on Spock's lips, but the Vulcan wrapped his hands around Jim's upper arms and pulled away again.

"I'm sorry," was Jim's instant response.

"Jim, do not be." Spock's hand cupped Jim's cheek and he looked directly into the captain's eyes. "I said it, now as irrational as it seems..."

"You want to hear it as well," Jim finished. Spock nodded and a breath left the human. "Spock, you already know-"

"I can feel it from you, yes, however...to leave it unsaid..."

"I love you."

It left Jim in a quick breath, and he blinked up at Spock. Now that it was out between them, something small, subtle, changed in Spock's eyes. He was looking at Jim in an almost predatory manner, and Jim felt something stirring in the back of his mind. It wasn't the type of predatory that would lead to an attack, at least not one that was intended to hurt. He knew that look. It was the same expression that Spock had in the shuttle.

"Spock...this bond will be permanent, won't it?"

"It will."

There was only a momentary hesitancy in Jim as he took Spock's free hand in his own. Fingers intertwined, and he gave a quick nod. "Then can we-"

The sentence was cut off by a sudden kiss, this time from Spock. Jim had to take a sudden quick breath, telling himself to calm down and just let Spock, who probably knew more about this than he, to take control. But it would be difficult for him to do.

The kiss was slow, deliberate. Spock did know fully what he was doing, and he took another step towards the bed, pulling Jim along with him. Although his response to being moved was a stumbling step, Jim did follow him willingly. When Jim felt himself being lowered to the bed, however, panic started up again. Questions of what he was doing? Why was he doing this? He was putting himself into a position of vulnerability.

Spock stopped kissing him and let Jim sit on the bed, sitting next to him. The Vulcan's eyebrows were pulling together as he watched the captain, a bit of worry showing through his usually stoic expression. "We will go as slow as you need, until you feel comfortable," he said, putting his forehead against Jim's. "You set the pace. I will stay to it."

Letting out a breath, Jim gave the smallest of nods, his eyes closing so that his easily readable emotions wouldn't show through. "I...don't know what I'm doing..."

"Just do what feels right."

That seemed like the easiest answer Spock could ever give him. Blinking again, Jim met the chocolate eyes that were so close with his own blue ones, searching for something, not certain entirely what he was looking for. Spock just sat there, ever patient.

"Spock...I do trust you."

"I know."

"And I'm trying not to be nervous."

"I know."

"Is there anything you don't know?"

Spock pulled his head away, his expression one of amusement. "I do not know why you feel it important to justify your hesitation. Jim...you seem to forget that I know you better than any one else ever could. Even in the short time we have known one another, you have become exceptionally important to me."

Jim watched Spock. He knew that Vulcans didn't lie, and also knew that this was what he wanted. He gave a nod of certainty and intertwined his fingers with Spock's. "Okay. Lets do this, then."


End file.
